Resolutions
by asha.writes
Summary: "'Dance with me,' Vincent held out his hand to her as a throaty feminine voice accompanied only by a piano filled the room. Catherine didn't hesitate before placing her hand in his. Her heart started thumping and her breath caught as he took her into his arms. This would never get old. Never feel familiar. Each time was like the first." (Excerpt - Epilogue) STORY COMPLETE!
1. Fallen

**This is my first story. I hope you enjoy. **

**In terms of a timeline, I had envisioned Mr. Chandler and Brooke's wedding taking place around the date of the midseason finale (Dec. 13) and Catherine being in the hospital for a while.  
**

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 1 – Fallen

**Playlist: Kyla La Grange – To Be Torn (of course!)**

The Beast leaned his face into Catherine's. He could still feel her faint, warm breath on his cheek. His ears picked up the quiet throb of her heart. He adjusted her in his arms, holding her gently but tightly against his chest. He looked around, up the road and down, looking for a possible solution, a way to make things right. He heard a car engine and saw headlights in the distance. Indecision gripped him. Run with her? Run without her, leaving her there and hoping that the car would stop at the scene of the accident? Stay and give her to whoever was in the car, making sure she was safe but risking exposure? None of these options sounded appealing. He was running out of time. His heart was racing and he was running on spikes of adrenaline and pure instinct.

As the car neared, he could make out the voices inside. They were familiar to him. He cocked his ears again and struggled to identify the speakers. One was higher-pitched, definitely feminine. It sounded like…Heather! Catherine's sister. The other voice was lower, accented and male. Evan, the Medical Examiner from Catherine's precinct. The one he had seen kissing Catherine in the photo booth. He growled and gripped Catherine even closer, his breath ragged. He didn't want to hand her over, to leave her, but this was the best option, her best chance at survival. At least he knew them, knew they would take care of Catherine, watch over her, and make sure she made it to the hospital in time.

The Beast looked around again, searching the darkness for anything else he could do before the car stopped. His sensitive ears picked up Heather's sharp gasp and exclamation as she recognized the wreckage of her car and worked out the implications for her sister.

Evan pulled his car to a stop.

"Stay in the car!" he ordered Heather, before getting out of the driver's seat.

"Wh-…Evan!" Heather exclaimed. Fear caused her voice to tremble. Evan shut the door, ending any further conversation.

Evan quickly assessed the situation: the two empty cars, the body crumpled on the ground and the shattered glass scattered everywhere. He strained his eyes and could make out a hunched figure up ahead. It was difficult to see in the dark and the tangle of headlights further obscured his vision. It was a man and he was holding something in his arms. He swayed gently, shifting his burden and clutching it closer. The man was breathing heavily, curls of steam issuing from his mouth with each sharp exhalation.

Evan saw that the bundle was a body. It appeared to be a woman and her dark hair shrouded her face. She was wearing a long dress. A bridesmaid's dress. It was Cat!

The unknown man ducked his head towards Cat's, almost as though he was trying to soothe her. Evan walked forward slowly, his eyes never leaving the pair in front of him.

The Beast lifted his head and looked at Evan. His rasping breath and galloping heartbeat echoed furiously in his ears. He straightened up and waited for Evan to approach.

The dark and shadows prevented Evan from identifying the man holding Cat. He was wearing a rumpled tuxedo, which almost certainly identified him as a guest at Mr. Chandler's wedding. Evan didn't recognize him from the reception, but it seemed clear that he knew Cat. The man held her firmly, yet tenderly against his chest. His eyes strayed down to her unconscious figure often, almost as though checking and rechecking for himself that she was still alive. He rocked her back and forth slightly as he held her.

Evan ran toward Cat's unconscious body. "Cat! What happened? Is she alive?"

The Beast steeled himself, trying to gather his thoughts and to speak in coherent sentences. There was no time for explanations. Catherine needed a hospital quickly, before it was too late. He could tell from her weakening pulse that she didn't have a lot of time. Her life was seeping out of the bullet hole in her chest.

"Take her," the Beast demanded urgently, trying desperately to suppress the animal inside of him. He needed to do this, for Catherine. He extended his arms out from his body, presenting Catherine to Evan. Evan hesitated. He was overwhelmed, bewildered and shocked to see Cat unconscious, bleeding and in the arms of a stranger.

"Take her! New York General," the man snarled, his deep voice guttural and strange. "Now!"

Evan extended his arms and took Cat into them. He shifted her against his body and held her close to his chest. He looked up at the stranger and the stranger looked right back at him.

"GO!" the man pleaded, his voice pained.

Evan turned towards his car, glancing once more at the man in front of him. The white shirt of his tuxedo was stained with Cat's blood. The man let out a jagged breath before turning and running towards the woods at the side of the road. As he turned to go, Evan looked at his face. It was still hidden in shadows, but as the man moved his head, his eyes flashed an unearthly yellow.

Without stopping to ponder what he had just seen, Evan carried Cat quickly to his car. When he opened the rear passenger door he could hear that Heather was already on her phone to 911. He gently laid Cat on the back seat, removed the jacket of his tuxedo and covered her with it. He smoothed her hair from her face.

"Where are we?" Heather asked, her voice unsteady. Evan climbed into his seat and slammed the door. "It's for the 911 dispatcher."

"There's no time. We can't wait for an ambulance. Tell them we are bringing her to New York General. Gunshot wound to the chest. Her breathing is shallow and she is unconscious. No telling what else might be wrong. They need to be ready for her."

"Gunshot?" Heather's eyes widened, but she repeated Evan's words to the woman on the other end of the phone in a shaky voice.

"Tell them that there is a body and two cars that need to be dealt with as well." Evan checked their position on his GPS and relayed it to Heather. She gave as many details as she could to the woman on the other end of the phone before ending the call. The phone slipped from her hand and fell unheeded to the floor. "Get in the back and put pressure on the wound. Do what you can to stop the bleeding."

Heather hastily changed seats. She had barely shut the door behind her before Evan and put the car into reverse, swivelled it around and sped off as fast as he could in the direction of the hospital.

**xxxxx**

The Beast ran alongside the car, hidden just out of sight by the tree cover at the side of the road. He matched the speed of the car while still managing to negotiate the trees, the underbrush and the uneven ground.

He tipped his head back and roared. He poured his pain and anguish into the unnatural sound. He cried out again and again, while his feet pounded the damp, cold earth and his heart hammered in his chest.

"Catherine!"


	2. Broken

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 2 – Broken

**Playlist: Live – Lightning Crashes**

The fluorescent lights in the waiting room were harsh and glaring. Heather was asleep, her body curled up in an uncomfortable, vinyl chair. She was covered only in the tiny champagne-coloured jacket that went with her bridesmaid's dress. Tears had dried in salty tracks down her cheeks. She sighed in her sleep and her breath occasionally hiccupped as a result of the hours she had spent crying.

Cat and Heather's father and his new wife Brooke had arrived less than an hour after Heather and Evan had. Mr. Chandler sat in between the two women, one arm around his new wife, the other resting on his slumbering daughter's shoulder. Brooke was still wearing her wedding dress, which was dishevelled and wrinkled. Her husband's suit jacket hung loosely from her shoulders. Her eyes were red from crying. Her makeup was smudged and her mascara had run down her cheeks. She was slumped in her seat, her head on her new husband's shoulder.

Evan paced the floor nervously like a caged animal. He had tried sitting down, but just couldn't stand it. He had to be moving. It made him feel like he was accomplishing something, even if he wasn't. He was barely aware of the passage of time. Cat had been taken straight into surgery when they arrived and they hadn't heard anything since. The waiting room was small and somewhat private. It didn't have a clock or windows, which was probably a good thing.

Tess was sitting in a chair directly in front of the path Evan was wearing into the carpet. She held her head in her hands, her eyes closed and her shoulders drooped in defeat. Evan had called her as soon as they had arrived at the hospital and handed Cat off to the emergency team. Cat had been rushed into the depths of the hospital and one of the nurses had brought them to this waiting room, on the same floor as the OR they were using to operate. Tess had been there for hours at this point. She had spent some time on the phone with people from work, Joe and the colleagues she felt would most like to know. She had told them all to wait for further news and not to come down to the hospital. It was bad enough that the five of them had been waiting so long. Now she didn't know what to do.

Five pairs of eyes looked up in unison as the door was gently opened. A small woman in a long white coat entered the room. She was wearing blue scrubs under her coat and she had a stethoscope looped around her neck. Her greying hair was pulled back into a clip. She was of Indian descent and had a small piercing in the left nostril of her nose. Her face was kind and tired, crows feet pulled at the corners of her eyes.

Everyone rose to their feet. Mr. Chandler gently nudged Heather. She scrubbed her hands over her eyes several times. She was about to ask what was going on when she looked up and saw the doctor.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Patel. I was the lead surgeon during Ms. Chandler's operation," Dr. Patel sighed. Her English was accented and had a musical quality to it. Strands of hair were escaping from the hair clip, giving her a dishevelled appearance. She pushed them impatiently behind her ears.

"Please, Doctor. What can you tell us? Is she…is she OK?" Cat's father had a hard time getting the words out. He held both his daughter's and his wife's hands in his own.

"Thank you for waiting. I'm sorry we weren't able to send someone out before now. Shortly after Catherine arrived in the operating room, her heart stopped and she went into cardiac arrest."

"Oh, my God," whispered Heather. She started to cry again. All feeling left her legs and she lost her footing. She almost collapsed until Evan put his arm around her, supporting her weight and propping her up.

"We managed to start her heart again and stabilize her before continuing with the operation," Dr. Patel continued. "We were able to remove all of the bullet fragments from Ms. Chandler's chest. Unfortunately, her heart stopped again during the operation."

Tess sat down in her chair abruptly and gasped. She put her hand over her mouth and stared at the doctor in disbelief. "What?"

"We resuscitated her a second time and successfully completed the operation. She has lost a lot of blood, sustained a concussion and is extremely weak. Immediately after surgery, she spent some time in the recovery room. We have now moved her to the ICU. We need to keep her there until her condition stabilizes." Dr. Patel looked at each person in turn with her chocolate-coloured eyes. They were filled with sympathy for this family, these friends.

"What's her prognosis?" asked Evan, his voice catching on the last word.

"As I said, she is in the ICU and she is currently in serious condition. The next few hours – the next few days, in fact – will be extremely crucial for her. I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more at this point. I wish I had better news for you." She gave them all a reassuring smile. Her eyes reflected a deep sadness, though.

"Can we see her?" Mr. Chandler asked, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm afraid that…" Dr. Patel began denying the request.

"Please," Mr. Chandler begged, "just for a moment. Just so I can see her with my own eyes."

Dr. Patel considered his request before beckoning him forward. "Mr. Chandler, if you would follow me, I will arrange a quick visit for you. I'm afraid that the rest of you must remain here for the time being. Her condition is very serious and it is well outside visiting hours."

Mr. Chandler squeezed his daughter's hand and kissed his new wife's cheek. He nodded to Evan and Tess before following Dr. Patel out of the room. He closed the door softly behind him.

**xxxxx**

Mr. Chandler walked alongside Dr. Patel. The fluorescent lights overhead were hard on the eyes. One was flickering, the fluorescent tube buzzing as they walked under it. Neither he nor the doctor spoke. There was nothing more to say.

Dr. Patel stopped outside of Room 305. The door was closed.

"This is your daughter's room. I'll give you some time alone with her. My office is just down the hall, if you need anything," she said, motioning gracefully with her hand. Mr. Chandler hardly noticed. He just wanted to get inside, to see his daughter. Dr. Patel briefly patted Mr. Chandler's arm. "I will be back to collect you shortly. I am sorry."

"Thank you for this, Doctor. I appreciate it," his voice broke on the last few words of the sentence. Dr. Patel nodded and walked away from him.

Mr. Chandler took a deep breath before gingerly turning the knob. He pushed the door open slowly and walked through. Catherine wasn't alone in the room. A white-coated doctor, a man this time, was leaning over her. He was inspecting her chart with one hand, his other hand holding her wrist, checking her pulse. He was concentrating on Catherine and did not look up as Mr. Chandler entered the room. Mr. Chandler barely noticed him. He only had eyes for his daughter.

Catherine was lying in the bed, clad in a hospital gown and tucked under white, rough hospital blankets. Her face was pale, its only colour a livid red cut on her forehead. Tubes ran into her nostrils, helping her breathe. The soft hiss of the oxygen could be heard echoing in the relative silence of the room. The reassuring, rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor set Mr. Chandler a little more at ease. IV tubes fed her veins. She looked so young and broken. Tears filled Mr. Chandler's eyes.

"Excuse me, Doctor? Can I have a moment alone with my daughter?"

The doctor looked up, almost shocked to see him there, as if he hadn't heard him come into the room at all. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes. His white lab coat was covering a pair of blue scrubs, and he had a nametag, which Mr. Chandler couldn't read.

"Of course, sir," the doctor said, placing Catherine's metal chart in a plastic case at the end of her bed. As he turned, Mr. Chandler saw that he had a prominent scar on the right side of his face.

"Doctor?" Mr. Chandler asked, as the doctor reached for the doorknob. "Is she going to be OK?"

The doctor looked over at the bed. His eyes displayed a range of emotions, including sadness, and something else, something Mr. Chandler couldn't name. The doctor cleared his throat before speaking, giving an evasive, unclear answer. "She has a long recovery ahead of her."

Mr. Chandler sighed. The doctor walked over to Catherine father's side. He gripped the man's shoulder briefly in sympathy. "I do think she will be fine. Eventually."

Mr. Chandler slumped into the chair next to Catherine's bed. He took her hand in both of his. "How do you know?"

"Because she has to be," the doctor said cryptically, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.


	3. Sleep

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

**A/N: I have decided to add a song to each chapter that I think best represents the feeling I was trying to capture in words. Sometimes music says it all! Please check the previous chapters as I have added a song to each of those as well. You can listen to the songs on YouTube (while you are reading!). Hope you like them. xA**

Chapter 3 – Sleep

**Playlist: Alison Krauss and Yo-Yo Ma – Slumber My Darling**

Everything appeared white and fuzzy. It felt like she was wrapped in a cocoon that muzzled her senses and blurred reality. At times it felt like she was almost awake, was close to understanding what was going on around her. Then the sensation would pass, the moment would melt away and consciousness would continue to elude her. She knew that she should wake up, knew that something was waiting for her. Someone was waiting for her.

**xxxxx**

Eventually, light and darkness punctured her semi-conscious state. She could tell when it was night by the general dimness around her. Often the overhead lights were off, but a few of the wall sconces near the bed were left on. During the daytime, the entire room was flooded with sunlight. The brightness penetrated her closed eyelids and filtered into her brain. She was aware that it was daytime and that she was surrounded by natural light, diffuse and calming.

**xxxxx**

The next time awareness came to her, Catherine could hear voices. They swirled around her, disrupted her sleep patterns, tangled with her thoughts. The first few times, she grasped only that there were voices nearby. It took a while, but eventually she could tell whether the voices were male or female. She wasn't able to discern more than that.

**xxxxx**

She had grown used to the presence of the doctors and nurses. She knew when a hospital worker was in the room, even if they didn't speak. There was a professional sound to their movements. She could hear the staff adjusting machines, flipping papers, ensuring she was comfortable, occasionally having a hushed conversation. They were brisk and efficient and they brought her some comfort.

**xxxxx**

Bright daylight streamed into her room. She could tell that a female voice was nearby. It was high-pitched, familiar. Catherine felt that she should be able to identify the voice as it kept up a steady stream of chatter. The rise and fall of the voice, the cadence and pattern was one she knew well. Heather. Catherine tried to catch the words and hold on to them, but they slipped through her brain. She was desperate to understand. These words were meant for her, she knew that, could feel it. Why couldn't she comprehend them? What was wrong with her?

A deep chuckle indicated that her sister wasn't alone in the room. A few words were spoken in this new, masculine voice. Catherine concentrated hard. It was her father. Another musical voice chimed in and Catherine identified Brooke, her father's wife. It was getting easier for her to tell who was in the room. She still couldn't tell what they were saying, however.

Heather said something which made them all laugh. The sound brought peace to Catherine. Her moment of clarity ended and darkness descended upon her once more.

**xxxxx**

On another occasion, she could tell that Tess was in the room with her. By the tone and rhythm of her voice, Catherine knew that she was reading something – a book or a newspaper - out loud.

She was still struggling with individual words and trying to make sense out of what she was hearing, but after intense concentration she was able to gather that it was some sort of quiz in a magazine. Tess was reading questions to Cat and then answering them herself. She would occasionally laugh loudly and then mutter to herself.

**xxxxx**

The first time Catherine felt something was at night. Something had brought her to this moment of lucidity and had pierced her comfortable, black shell. She could hear a buzzing sound coming from one of the smaller lights near her head and knew that it occasionally flickered. She could hear the hissing and beeping from the machines surrounding her, but wasn't able to identify them further. They were just part of the background that made up her new surroundings.

Up to this point it had felt as though she was wrapped in a layer of cotton. She couldn't feel her arms and her legs or the rest of her body at all. She still hadn't opened her eyes and seen her surroundings. She wasn't technically awake yet, but she was more sensitive to the world around her. It was becoming easier for her to hear things and she was able to make out words and phrases that people were saying around her.

On this night, she came to awareness and there were no voices. Her sister and father were gone. Tess wasn't there. Evan, Joe and a few of her colleagues had come for a brief and awkward visit earlier but they had left when it was still light out. Other snippets that had filtered through to her were silenced. There was a presence in the room, however. Someone was there.

She listened again, more carefully this time, and she heard breathing coming from nearby. Steady, rhythmic breathing. Someone shifted in the chair next to her bed. For the first time, she felt her hand being lifted up and gently held within the warmth of another. She focused on that sensation with all her might.

"Catherine," a jagged voice sighed. It was Vincent. Vincent was here with her. She wanted to talk to him, to see him with her own eyes. She remembered that there was something she needed to tell him.

Catherine tried to open her eyes. She concentrated all her energy on her eyelids, trying to force them open. She wanted to let him know that she was there, that she could hear him.

"Catherine, don't leave me. I can't do this without you," he whispered and then was silent. She could hear a catch to his voice and a change in his breathing. It came in shorter, sharper gasps. Was he crying?

For the first time since she had returned to some sense of awareness, Catherine felt trapped, trapped within her own body. She needed to talk to Vincent, to let him know that she was alright. Her eyelids wouldn't move. She couldn't speak.

She focused her strength into her fingers. She sent messages to her hand, willing it to move. Please! PLEASE! The resulting twitch was rather disappointing, but at least it was something.

Vincent's breath hitched and Catherine heard vinyl crackling as he moved forward in his seat. He squeezed her hand. "Catherine, please."

Catherine's fingers contracted once more. The movement was weak, but Vincent could definitely feel it. His resulting sigh of relief caused her pulse to jump and her heart monitor to send forth a few up-tempo blips. He squeezed back and her fingers twitched once more.

"Oh, Catherine," Vincent whispered as he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against her forehead.

Catherine was overwhelmed and out of energy. Her world faded to black.

**xxxxx**

When Catherine finally opened her eyes for the first time, it was night time and there was only one lamp on, casting its weak light into the room. Vincent was there. He was sitting in the chair next to her bed again. He was slumped forward, his head resting on his arm and his arm resting on the side of her bed. His eyes were closed. He was holding her hand. She didn't think he was asleep, but she couldn't be sure.

Catherine tried to speak. She moved her lips, but no sound came out. Nothing. Her throat was parched and dry and out of practice. It hurt when she swallowed and she desperately wanted something to drink. A sense of urgency washed over her. She wanted to make sure that Vincent knew she was awake, knew she could see him before the darkness claimed her once again.

She opened her mouth to talk once more, but it was no use. She didn't want to panic, but he was so close and there was no way of letting him know that she was awake. She didn't want to waste this precious time alone with him. Catherine moved her hand slightly. She tried again, putting all her effort behind the simple motion. She couldn't make him open her eyes with her voice, so she would have to try it this way.

Catherine moved her hand several times. She could see and feel that it wasn't moving much, but it was something. She focused on the muscles in her hand and each individual finger and squeezed again. The resulting jolt in Vincent's body was electric. He felt it!

Vincent's eyes sprung open and he looked up at Catherine. He lifted his head off of the bed and his smile lit up the room. The expression on his face was one of pure joy.

"Catherine!" he whispered. "Oh, Catherine."

**A/N – Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and/or favourited my first fanfic. I appreciate it more than I could say. xA**


	4. Words

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 4 – Words

**Playlist: Ingrid Michaelson – Keep Breathing**

"Catherine," Vincent whispered. He squeezed her hand and brought her fingers to his lips.

Catherine tried to speak once again, but found it impossible. All she could manage was a harsh, rasping sound. She cleared her throat and grimaced at the ache in her chest. Vincent looked around before spotting a clean, plastic cup. He took it and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. Catherine heard water running in the sink. He returned to her side and gently lifted her head with his hand and brought the cup to her lips. She took a sip and then another, before lifting her eyes to him. He moved the cup away from her mouth and tenderly laid her head back down on the pillow.

"Vincent," she whispered. Catherine tried to sit up. She winced and exhaled in pain.

"Catherine, stay still. Don't hurt yourself." Vincent helped her to lie down once more. He took her hand in his. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got run over," she mumbled. "What happened to me?"

Vincent chuckled at her tone. She wasn't used to being helpless. This was new for her and she didn't like it. "Do you remember? You got into a car accident and you were shot."

"Sabrina. Yes, I remember now. How long have I been here?" Catherine looked down. Vincent was still holding her hand. She smiled and looked back up at him.

"Uh, four days," he mumbled, losing his train of thought. Her eyes had the power to make him forget everything that was happening around him.

"Four days? That's all?" Catherine asked, mystified. It had felt so much longer to her than that. It had felt like she had been poised between sleep and awareness for weeks.

"It was long enough, believe me," Vincent laughed again. "Everyone was worried. You've had so many visitors in and out of this room that I haven't been able to come as often as I wanted to."

"Vincent!" Catherine exclaimed, realizing the implications of his presence in her room for the first time. "What are you doing here? Someone could see you. You could be exposed."

"Catherine," Vincent's tone was pleading. "I had to see you. To make sure for myself that you were alright."

"How often have you come?" she asked, tentatively.

"Every day," he replied, matter-of-factly. Just to be completely honest he added, "and every night."

"You came during the day, too? Vincent, this is too dangerous. You shouldn't be here." Even though she had said the words, there was no conviction in her tone. It was dangerous for him to be here, but his presence soothed her. It was extremely selfish of her, but she was glad he was here and she didn't want him to leave. She shook her head and smiled, "JT must need to buy his Tums from Costco."

"Don't worry about me. Or JT for that matter…we can take care of ourselves," he said. Vincent idly rubbed his thumb over the knuckles of her hand. He leaned forward in his chair and looked down at her. "Catherine, I…."

"Vincent, I need to tell you something. I left the wedding early because I needed to see you. I realized something after you left."

These words cut Vincent to the core. He was the reason she had left the wedding, the reason she had been gunned down by that lunatic. If he had just stayed with her for the whole night instead of losing his head and leaving, none of this would have happened to her. She was suffering because of him. As if his beastly side wasn't enough for her to contend with.

Vincent sighed and looked passed her, out the window, "Catherine, just rest. Don't worry about it now. We can talk later. You must be exhausted."

"Vincent, please. Listen to me," she pleaded, her voice a strained whisper. It was a struggle to speak, but she didn't want to let one more moment pass before telling him how she felt. "I realized something at my father's wedding. I was standing in front of everyone and giving a speech about my dad and Brooke and I realized then that every relationship has risks. There is no risk-free relationship and there are no guarantees. It just doesn't happen. All of the risks involved in you and I being together, they _are_ worth it. _You're_ worth it. Vincent, I accept all of what you are. I lo-"

"Catherine, no," Vincent moaned, placing his finger on her lips, stopping her words. His eyes shimmered in the lamp light. "Please. Please don't. There's something I need to tell you, too, before you say anything. Something important. I…"

Vincent's eyes snapped up and focused on the door. His body tensed and he leaned away from her. "Someone's coming. I've got to go."

He squeezed her hand briefly before leaving so quickly and quietly it was almost as if he had never been there. Moments after Vincent left, a nurse came into the room. Catherine closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She had no more words.

Had the nurse been looking at Catherine instead of her chart and the machines around her, she would have noticed the single tear that slid down Catherine's cheek and dropped onto her pristine white pillow.


	5. Hurt

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 5 – Hurt

**Playlist: Augustana (ft. Daria Werbowy) - Boston **

The next morning, Catherine awoke fully from her unconscious state. She sighed as she recalled the events of the previous night. She needed to talk to Vincent again, to find out what was going on. Why didn't he want to hear how she felt? What did he want to tell her?

She looked around the room. There was no struggling to open her eyes or move her hands and her throat was no longer parched. She was still attached to a few IV lines but the oxygen tubes had been taken from her nose at some point. She could hear the steady blip of the heart monitor. Her father, Brooke and Heather were sitting in chairs near the window, talking quietly together.

"Dad. Heather," she called out, extending her hand towards her family. "Brooke."

Three pairs of eyes immediately turned in her direction. Exclamations of joy, questions and concerns were all uttered so quickly that Catherine couldn't make sense out of any of them. Heather sprung from her chair, crossed the room in a rush and threw her arms around Catherine, causing her to recoil in pain.

"Heather," Mr. Chandler cautioned. He touched her shoulder and motioned her away from the bed. "Be careful."

"Oh, Cat, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm just so happy to see you awake. We were so worried about you."

Catherine smiled weakly at her sister. She was happy to see all of them. Brooke gestured briefly to Mr. Chandler before slipping out of the room. She returned moments later with a nurse.

The nurse pulled Catherine's chart from the end of bed and bustled around for a moment. The conversation stalled while she was in the room. She checked a few machines, took Catherine's pulse and asked a few questions. Catherine answered perfunctorily, already tired of being a patient. "I'll go notify Dr. Patel that you have woken up. Welcome back! We were all very worried about you."

"Thank you," Catherine whispered, overwhelmed by this stranger's outpouring of kindness.

The nurse smiled and lightly squeezed Catherine's hand. She grabbed a print out from one of the machines and left the room. Catherine's family moved their chairs closer to the bed. Heather and Mr. Chandler were holding her hands and Brooke was sitting next to Mr. Chandler, resting her hand lightly on his forearm.

"How do you feel, honey?" Mr. Chandler asked.

"A little bit out of it. Everything happened so fast that night that I'm still trying to piece it all together."

"We're just so relieved that you are awake and OK," said Brooke. She leaned over and gripped Catherine's hand briefly before letting it go.

Catherine looked over at her father and Brooke and had a moment of panic. "What about your honeymoon? You're supposed to be in Hawaii right now."

Mr. Chandler chuckled. "Catherine, sweetheart, don't worry about that. Our honeymoon can be rescheduled. This can't. We'll go some time in the new year, when things have calmed down and you're back on your feet."

"Well…thank you. It's great to have you here. I just can't believe this happened after your wedding," Catherine mumbled, feeling guilty for ruining their night and disrupting their plans.

"Catherine, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it. We're just glad to be here with you," Catherine's father said, before moving the conversation on to happier and lighter topics.

The tension in the room had lifted the moment Catherine had woken up. Everyone was visibly relieved to talk with her, see her smile, and know that she was going to be fine. Dr. Patel poked her head in during their visit and shooed everyone out of the room so she could check on Catherine. Once she had finished and they had reconvened, she pronounced Catherine on the road to recovery. "We will be able to move you onto another ward in the morning, I think."

"When can I go home?" Catherine asked, making everyone in the room laugh. She was a notoriously bad patient.

"Not for a few days, Catherine. Don't worry, you'll be out of here in no time," Dr. Patel's musical voice was reassuring. She checked her watch and gave a regretful look at the family gathered in front of her. "I'm afraid that visiting hours ended about half an hour ago. Why don't you come back tomorrow morning and help Catherine settle into her new room?"

Everyone looked up and glanced towards the window, shocked to see that it was already dark outside. They had spent hours laughing and joking, relaxed now that Catherine was awake.

Dr. Patel left the room, followed shortly by the Chandler family. They left in a flurry of careful hugs, kisses and promises to return in the morning. Catherine was sad to see them go and unhappy that she was still stuck in her hospital bed. However, the darkness did come with other advantages.

Catherine managed to stay awake for a while after her family had left, but the excitement of the day and the lingering pain from her injuries started to take a toll on her. Worry about Vincent's next visit clouded her mind. She nodded off after a while, lulled by the rhythmic beeping of her heart rate monitor, caught in a restless sleep.

**xxxxx**

When she opened her eyes, it was to the welcome sight of Vincent sitting in the uncomfortable vinyl seat next to her bed. He was wide awake and watching her.

"Hey," she said, feeling a bit foolish and self-conscious. "How long have you been here?"

"A while," he admitted, looking a bit sheepish to be caught staring at her while she slept.

"It's good to see you," she whispered, looking at the bed sheets while she did. He took her hand in both of his and squeezed lightly. She looked up at him.

"Yeah, you too." Vincent looked down and then back up, into her eyes. "Catherine, there's something I need to tell you."

Catherine was mesmerized by his gaze, by the raw feelings contained in his eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to calm the runaway beating of her heart. She gingerly eased herself into a sitting position. Vincent gently positioned some pillows at her back and tenderly pressed her against them.

Vincent swallowed and struggled to find the words to tell her what he was thinking. "Catherine, before I enlisted in the army, before all of this happened, I lived a normal life. I was training to be a doctor, doing my residency at St. Benjamin's Hospital. I had a great family, good friends and…a fiancé."

Catherine's sharp intake of breath caused Vincent pain. "Oh."

"Her name was Alex and we grew up together. I've known her since we were little. Me, JT, my brothers and her…we were a gang. For years and years we did everything together. We were inseparable, the five of us. You would never find one of us without the others. Eventually, Catherine, our friendship changed and we…uh…we fell in love."

The look on Catherine's face made Vincent squirm in his chair. Jealousy sparked within her, coursing through her veins, causing her nostrils to flare and her pupils to dilate. However, she was glad that he was sharing part of his past with her, even something as painful to listen to as this. Maybe he needed to tell her about his past relationships before he could move on.

"And?" she was barely able to get the word out. She had a suspicion that he was giving her this glimpse of his past for a reason and something told her that she wasn't going to like that reason.

Vincent paused and awkwardly cleared his throat. "I proposed to her and we were supposed to be married the summer after my residency was complete."

"I see," said Catherine. She swallowed painfully and reached for the cup of water on the nightstand next to her bed. She took a large sip of the deliciously cool water.

"That was the summer of 2001. In September, the Towers came down, my brothers died and I enlisted. You know what happened after that." Catherine nodded because it seemed like he was looking for acknowledgement of what he had just told her. "I never saw her again."

"OK," Catherine breathed a sigh of relief, let out the breath she had been holding. She leaned over and placed her hand on his cheek, cradling his face. "It's OK, Vincent."

"Well, the thing is…I just saw her, two days ago…here at the hospital. She works here now as a nurse. It was an accident. I was…surprised to see her." He was very edgy and was gesturing with his hands while he spoke.

There were so many questions swirling around in Catherine's mind that she hardly knew which to ask first. She dropped her hand back down and let it rest on her lap. "Did you talk to her?"

"Not at first. But she saw me and…and I just couldn't do that to her. Walk away from her like that. Again. Or let her think she was crazy and seeing a ghost or something. Before everything….happened, we were engaged to be married and I just…I just left her there, waiting for me. Without warning or explanations." Vincent sighed deeply, expelling his frustration. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, nervously messing it up. "I was really screwed up back then and I wasn't thinking straight. I was a different person. It was a dark time and she was there for me."

"So, you talked. Did you tell her about… about your time in Afghanistan?" Catherine struggled to find the correct words.

"No. We haven't talked about that yet."

"Are you going to?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead. It was just nice to have a part of my past back. We share so many memories."

"Oh. Are you going to see her again?"

"Catherine, I can't leave her like last time, with no explanations. We were engaged. I owe it to her to…"

"Do you still have feelings for her?" Cat swallowed and couldn't meet Vincent's eyes.

"Catherine. I don't know. I never thought I would see her again. It was all so sudden, so unexpected." Vincent groaned and put his face in his hands. He sighed deeply. "Seeing her again brought me back to that time, a time before all of these secrets and lies, before I had to hide and live in a cage. Before the experiments changed my body and messed up my mind. Back when I was normal. It's just so easy to talk to her. She knows my family, knows all about me. She knows where I come from. We have a lot in common."

Catherine sat rigid, her eyes fixed on a point on the wall across the room. Even though it hurt, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, hugging herself, protecting herself from his words. Her lips were pursed and she was silent.

"Catherine, say something," Vincent implored.

"I don't know what to say, Vincent. You deserve to be happy; especially after all you've been through. If she makes you happy, then…" Catherine couldn't complete that sentence. She could feel her heart breaking into a million jagged little pieces.

"But, yesterday you said…" Vincent broke off, unable to finish his thought.

"It doesn't matter what I said yesterday. Don't worry about it, Vincent," she laughed nervously. "You don't owe me anything. We don't…I mean, we haven't…it's not like we...Vincent, we're not together or anything. You don't need my permission. We're just friends…good friends."

"Oh. OK," Vincent said, looking a little stunned. "I thought that you…that we…"

"You need to follow your heart. If Alex can make you happy, if she's what's best for you, if she's the one who can heal you and if she will accept you for who you are now and for who you were then, well, that's pretty amazing. That's someone to hold on to."

Vincent opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find something to say. The words didn't come.

"Vincent, I'm not feeling very well," Catherine's cheeks were flushed and she wouldn't look him in the eye. "I think I need to lie down for a while."

"I'll go call for the nurse," he said, rising to his feet. He touched her forehead. It felt warm.

"No. I don't need the nurse. I just need to be alone. Could you…" she made a vague gesture with her hand towards the door. She looked away from him as her eyes stung with the effort of holding her tears back. She struggled to sound normal. "I'll see you later, OK?"

She turned her head so she could look out of the window. It was dark, of course, and there was nothing to see. When she turned back, Vincent had gone.

**A/N – Just a few more hours to go! (Jan. 24, 2013)**

**As always, thank you for your reviews and kind words. They keep me going…xA**


	6. Fine

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 6 – Fine

**Playlist: Adele – Someone Like You**

"I'm fine," Catherine repeated. "Really. Just a little sore. I'm anxious to get back to work."

"You are definitely not ready for work. I've scheduled you for a psych eval on Monday the 7th."

"Joe, I don't need a psych eval," Catherine sighed. The last thing she needed was to talk to some shrink about her feelings. Especially since her feelings could get her – and a lot of other people – into serious trouble.

"Chandler, no arguments! I'll see you on the 7th. 9am. You need to be cleared before you can come back to work. You just had a traumatic injury and there's no need to rush this. Until then, take it easy. Take some time off. Go on a vacation or something. Get a hobby." Joe sounded brusque over the phone and she could hear him flipping papers in the background. He was obviously busy and staying late at the precinct.

"If I could just…" Catherine tried to interject.

"I'm hanging up now, Chandler. I don't want to see you for two more weeks. If you show up here before that, I'll have you escorted off the premises and driven home by uniformed officers. Understood?" Joe's tone had the very definite ring of finality to it. "And if you call Vargas for case updates, I'll saddle her with desk duty for the next three months. Got that?"

Catherine exhaled loudly, making no attempts to hide her frustration with the situation. "Got it."

"Good. Get better and relax. I know how hard that is for you," Joe chuckled. "Oh, and Chandler…glad you're in one piece."

"Thanks, Joe," said Catherine, resigned to the situation. "See you."

Catherine hit the disconnect button on her phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. She flopped back against the couch, wincing as her bandage shifted and rubbed against her wound. Maybe she wasn't technically ready to go back to work yet, but she couldn't stand sitting around the apartment any more. It had been the longest two days of her life. She just wanted to be doing something again, to be so busy that she didn't have time to think. She had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and her inability to do anything made her extremely irritable.

Catherine looked out the window and, for the first time, she noticed that it was snowing. She got up and went to stand near the balcony door. The snow must have been falling for a while because a soft, white blanket covered the buildings, parked cars and street lamps. The world was still for once, peaceful.

"Hey, Cat. Who was that?" Heather called out from her bedroom, shattering the hush of the snow-covered streets outside.

Catherine rolled her eyes. She loved her sister, but sometimes Heather just didn't understand her need for privacy, her desire not to share every little detail. "It was work. You know, Joe, my boss."

"Oh, that was nice," said Heather, wandering out to the living room, her high heels clicking on the wooden floor. She was struggling to close the clasp on the earring she was putting on. "Was he calling to check on you?"

"Um…not exactly. I called him," Catherine replied, reluctantly truthful.

"Why?" Heather asked, already sure she knew the answer.

"Well, you know, to wish everyone at the precinct a Merry Christmas. I miss them," Catherine answered, unable to meet Heather's eyes.

Heather sighed in frustration. "Cat, don't make me take your phone away from you. Why were you really calling?"

Catherine looked up, sheepishly, "I, uh…want to go back to work. Staying here, staying home all day long, being cooped up…I can't take it anymore."

"It's only been two days!" Heather exclaimed. "Give it some time."

"Two days? What about all those days in the hospital? Don't they count? I've rested enough," Catherine moaned as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder and off her face.

"What did Joe say?"

"He said that if I came back early he would have me escorted from the building and driven home by uniformed officers."

"Good. I'm glad." Heather laughed at the look of desolation on her sister's face. Cat desperately needed to slow down, to take things easy for a while. She had been acting differently since before she'd left the hospital. She seemed sadder, quieter. Something was not quite right.

Catherine finally registered Heather's outfit: a classic little black dress, stiletto heels and a bright red clutch. "Where are you off to, looking like that?"

"I have a date," trilled Heather, unable to keep the glee from her voice.

"With Evan?" Catherine asked curiously.

"Evan? Oh, no. This is a new guy. Someone from work. I've been dying for him to ask me out for ages!" Heather smoothed her hair and added a last minute coat of lipstick. She blotted, licked her lips and checked her handiwork in the little silver compact she carried in her purse.

"What about Evan? At Dad's wedding, you were going on and on about being in love with him. What happened there?"

"Well, you know, he's nice and all. Great accent. Nice body…from what I could tell," she added, when Catherine looked up suddenly. "But I'd had a lot of vodka and he was wearing a tux…it was a bad combination. Besides, I don't want to date a guy who's into my sister."

"What?" Catherine sputtered. "Evan and I are just friends. And colleagues. Heather, there is nothing going on between us. I don't think of him that way at all."

Heather looked as though she didn't quite believe her older sister. "Sure, Cat. Maybe you don't have feelings for him, but he couldn't stop talking about you at Dad's wedding. It was 'Cat this' and 'Cat that' all night long. I mean, I love you and all, but it sort of ruins the mood, you know?"

"Well, I'm sorry. I really and truly don't feel that way about him. If you still want to go out with…."

"Don't worry about it, Cat. I'm so over him. I've moved on - to Matt. Speaking of…he'll be waiting. See you later. Don't wait up," Heather giggled, giving her sister a quick hug. Catherine absentmindedly patted Heather on the back and watched her teeter to the front door.

"Be careful in those heels. It's snowing pretty heavily out there," Catherine called after her sister.

Heather tossed a careless wave behind her before unbolting the front door. Catherine let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding and turned back to the window. She almost screamed when she saw a face looking back at her through the window.

"Vincent!" she exclaimed sharply, after quickly checking to make sure her sister was safely out of the apartment. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Heather?" he whispered, once she had unlatched the balcony door and let him in.

"On a date. Don't ask," she said, noticing his raised eyebrow.

"How are you doing?" he asked, concern etched in his face.

"I'm fine," she replied automatically. She crossed her arms in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh…wanted to see you," he answered, not meeting her eyes. "I wanted to make sure that you're OK."

"I'm fine," she repeated, unconvincingly.

Vincent looked around her apartment, his gaze taking in the candles dotted around the room, the muted movie playing on the TV and the cup of instant noodles cooling on the coffee table. "What, no tree?"

Catherine looked around her apartment and shrugged her shoulders. "You know, I'm not really in a festive mood this year."

"How's your wound? Do you want me to have a look at it?" he asked nervously, unsure of himself.

"No, it's fine. How's Alex?"

"Catherine, I didn't come here to talk about Alex."

"No? Then why are you here?" she asked again, determined to get his answer.

"I wanted to see you. I missed you," he stepped towards her, lifting his hand to brush a strand of her hair away from her face.

Catherine closed her eyes and enjoyed the brief moment of contact. "Vincent, this doesn't change anything. Are you still with Alex?"

"Catherine," he pleaded.

"Are you? Have you sorted out your feelings for her?" So many questions swirled in her brain about the time he was spending with Alex. She wanted to ask them all. She wasn't sure she could handle all the answers, though.

"Catherine…it's complicated. I…" he mumbled, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Alex and I…we have a past together. I left without explaining anything to her. She's lived with questions for ten years. The least I can do is…"

"Vincent, it's OK. I understand. But you need to figure this out with her. You need to sort out the feelings you have for her. I can't help you with that." Catherine looked away from him, afraid her heart might burst.

"Catherine, being with her is different. It's like I get to have part of my past back. We share that history together. But, seeing her again, spending time with her, it's not the same as it is with you…it doesn't change how I feel about you. Catherine, I…."

"Vincent, I can't," Catherine sobbed. "Please."

"Catherine, I can't leave you like this."

"Vincent, don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'll be fine."

As Vincent opened his mouth to say something more a knock sounded at the front door.

"Vincent, you should go. I can't do this right now. And I think you need to stay away until you figure out exactly what it is you want." Catherine turned away from him and walked towards the door. While her back was turned, Vincent pulled a small package from his jacket pocket. It was wrapped in pretty red and white paper and tied with a small, red bow. He placed it on top of some magazines on the TV stand and quickly made his way to the balcony and out into the dark, snowy night.

When Catherine looked back, the balcony door was ajar, but no one was in the room. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

**A/N – Last night's episode was amazing. Thursday is definitely my new favourite day of the week!**

**Thank you to everyone who keeps reading and reviewing. I can't believe the overwhelming support I've had for my first fic. **

******Check out my new story, a one-shot called "Forever." Please read it and let me know what you think! **xA


	7. Comfort

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 7 – Comfort

**Playlist: Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah**

"Evan!" Catherine exclaimed, extremely surprised, and not entirely pleased, to see him on her doorstep. She looked down and was a little embarrassed by what she was wearing: an over-sized wool sweater, plaid pajama pants and fuzzy purple socks. Her hair was pulled up into an extremely messy knot on the top of her head. Evan didn't seem to notice, or care, what she was wearing, however. He carried an overflowing cloth bag in one hand and a bouquet of sunflowers in the other. "Hey."

Catherine quickly glanced behind her, double checking to make sure that Vincent had truly left the apartment. The balcony door was still slightly ajar, but the room was empty. She sighed in relief and beckoned Evan into her apartment.

Evan leaned forward and kissed Catherine briefly on her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Cat. It's good to see you up and about."

"Merry Christmas. And I'd hardly call it 'up and about.' Feels more like 'in and around' to me. It's like I'm under house arrest or something," she muttered. Evan chuckled at her obvious chagrin.

"It won't be for long. You'll be on your feet and back at work in no time. Never fear."

"Well, this is a surprise. What are you doing here? No eligible internet bachelorettes to keep you company on Christmas Eve?" Catherine shut the door behind him.

"Your sister texted me. She said she was going out and she didn't want to leave you here alone," Evan looked around the apartment, his gaze taking in the movie on TV and the attempt at a solitary dinner. "Seems she had a point. She even told me about your sad little cup of noodles."

"What? Heather texted you?" Catherine made a mental note to have a little chat with her baby sister the moment she returned home. "When?"

"I don't know…just over an hour ago or so."

"Oh, OK. Well, welcome. Come on in," Catherine led him into the living room. She took his coat and scarf and draped them over an armchair.

"These are for you," Evan put the overflowing bag on the floor and handed the sunflowers to Catherine. The brown paper wrapping crinkled as she accepted them. She tipped her nose in and smelled them. "Where did you get sunflowers in December?"

"I know a guy," Evan replied jokingly, his voice imitating the tones of a Hollywood gangster.

"Um, is he in the mafia?" Catherine asked, smiling.

"Well, with his connections, he probably could be. Now, can I get started on this?" Evan gestured to the fabric bag sitting by his feet.

"What is it?"

"Ingredients. I'm going to cook you dinner."

"Oh, Evan, really, y-you don't have to…" Catherine stammered. "It's very sweet of you, but…."

"Nonsense, Cat. You need to eat, I need to eat. I make a mean pesto sauce," Evan said, raising his eyebrows. He picked up the bag and carried it into the kitchen. He started pulling things out and putting them on the counter in front of him. He handed her a plastic DVD case and told her to get it set up.

Catherine looked at the case and rolled her eyes at Evan. "White Christmas? Really?"

"Definitely. It's the quintessential Christmas movie. There's singing, snow and a happy ending. What more could you want? Haven't you seen it before?"

"I think once, when I was, like, seven so I'll have to take your word for it," she laughed and went to put the disk in the DVD player. Soon the music of the opening overture filled the apartment. Catherine paused the movie and went back to the kitchen. "Do you need any help?"

"Nope, I can take care of myself. Sit down, keep me entertained. Here, open this bottle of red."

Catherine sat down at one of the tall bar stools in front of the island. Evan looked through a few drawers before coming up with a corkscrew for Catherine and a knife so he could start chopping the pesto ingredients. She opened the bottle and poured some wine into the glasses Evan provided for her. He definitely knew his way around a kitchen.

Before long, the apartment was filled with warm, appetizing aromas. Catherine's mouth watered. She was hungrier than she had thought. They kept up a constant, friendly stream of banter. She asked about work a lot and he filled her in on what she had been missing during her absence.

Soon, Evan served their meal. He put a steaming plate in front of Catherine. "This smells incredible, Evan. Thank you. You can cook for me any time!"

"Well, I just hope you like it. Would you like some more wine?" He topped up their wine glasses before moving around the island to sit next to her.

The food was delicious. Catherine laughed a lot during their conversation and she noticed how comfortable she was around him. They had a connection, there was no denying it. Things would be so easy with Evan. He wouldn't need to be persuaded. All she needed to do was lean over and close her eyes. She shook her head to clear those thoughts.

They finished eating dinner and Catherine stood to clear the dishes. "Just leave it, Cat. Bring your wine and let's go and watch the movie."

They settled themselves onto the sofa, side by side. Evan loosely draped his arm over the back of the couch behind Catherine's shoulders. Catherine pressed the play button on the remote and settled back to watch the movie, curling her legs beneath her. She wished it was Vincent sitting next to her.

Catherine sighed and looked out of the window. A slight movement outside caught her attention. She narrowed her eyes and stood up quickly.

"Cat? Everything alright?" Evan asked, concern creeping into his voice.

"No worries. I'm just going to shut the balcony door. I'm a bit chilly," she smiled and rubbed her hands along her wool-clad arms as if to illustrate her point.

Catherine walked to the balcony door and pulled it open wide enough so she could poke her head out into the darkness. She looked to the right and saw a quick flash of yellow shimmer in the darkness. It was too dark to make out much more than that.

"Please go home!" she pleaded, almost inaudibly, into the night. Warm steam curled from her mouth as she spoke and dissipated into the darkness. She turned away and shut the door with a firm click. She bolted it and went back to Evan's side.

"It's still snowing out there," she remarked, to cover up her behaviour at the door.

"Good," said Evan. "It just doesn't feel like Christmas without snow."

**xxxxx**

They finished watching the movie. Catherine laughed in all the right places, groaning and rolling her eyes when the cheesiness got to be too much for her.

As the end credits rolled, Evan turned to her. He put his hand on her cheek, caressing her skin, warming her. Catherine met his gaze. His eyes were intense, his pupils dilated. Evan closed his eyes, tilted his head towards hers and kissed her. His arms went around her and he held her close, pressed against his body.

Catherine gave into the kiss. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, briefly matching the pressure and movement of his lips.

His lips felt just as she'd remembered from her party. Soft, firm…nice. It was pleasant and he was definitely a good kisser, but there were no sparks between them. He was attractive and she liked him, but this was not what she wanted. Her feelings for Vincent were so all-consuming and confusing that she didn't have the space left in her thoughts for anyone else.

Catherine leaned back, breaking away from the kiss. "Evan."

Evan grinned mischievously. "I had to try, Cat."

"Evan, I like you, I really do. But…"

"Oh, Cat. What is it? We would be so good together. I know it and you know it. It's just a matter of time. What's holding you back? Is there someone else?"

Catherine had no way of telling Evan that she had already given her heart away, wholly and completely, just not to him. "It's…I just don't think it would be a good idea. We work together. We're good friends. I don't want to spoil that, what we already have together. Relationships are too complicated and Evan, you mean too much to me to ruin our friendship."

Evan sighed and moved his hand away from her face. "There's nothing I can say?"

Catherine shook her head regretfully. "No, Evan. You are so sweet but I just can't. I can't do this."

"It's fine, Cat. Maybe one day."

"Thanks for dinner. It was great," said Catherine, desperate to change the subject. She and Evan sensed at the same moment that the evening was over. There was nothing more to say.

"It was my pleasure, Cat. Take care of yourself. Maybe we can go for a coffee next week some time."

"Sure, Evan. I'd like that," Catherine said, handing him his jacket and scarf, not quite meeting his eyes. She walked him to the door and gave him a quick peck on the check. "Thank you for tonight, Evan. Really. And I'm sorry. I wish things could be different."

"Me too," Evan smiled sadly, touched her arm briefly and was gone. Catherine sighed and shut the door behind him. Life would be so simple with Evan.

**xxxxx**

"_Is he gone?_" texted Vincent.

"_Yes_," replied Catherine.

"_What are you doing with him_?" Vincent questioned, seconds later.

"_What are you doing with Alex?_" Catherine replied, hurt and angry. She turned off her phone, threw it onto her nightstand and went to get ready for bed.

**xxxxx**

When Catherine laid her head on her pillow, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She pressed her face into her pillow, smothering any noise. The last thing she needed was for Heather to come home, hear her crying and assume it was because of Evan. The release of emotions felt good and Catherine cried herself to sleep.

Outside, the snow still fell over the slumbering city. Vincent peered into her window and saw her there, crying, sad, alone. His fingers twitched and he flexed them, wanting nothing more than to break the glass that separated them so he could go to her, comfort her, hold her against him and never let her go. He pressed his hands against the glass, bent his head and sighed. His fault. All his fault. Maybe she was better off without him.

**A/N – Is it Thursday yet?**

**As always, thank you for your kind reviews. Your words mean so much to me! **

**Check out my new story, a one-shot called "Forever." Please read it and let me know what you think! xA**


	8. Confessions

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 8 – Confessions

**Playlist: A Fine Frenzy – Ashes and Wine**

Catherine looked out the window, her face pale and drawn. She hugged herself with her arms, hoping to capture some of the heat from the room for herself. The beautiful white snow had changed, turning into something dark and ugly. The world outside the window was grey and everything looked dead.

"I know what you need," Heather chirped from the sofa. She was sprawled on the couch, filing her fingernails. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table so her toenails could dry. Catherine did not turn around from her station in front of the window.

"Yeah? What's that?" she asked, uninterested in the answer. She knew what she needed. He just wasn't hers to need anymore.

"A New Year's Eve party!" Heather exclaimed. Her enthusiasm was not contagious. Catherine continued to look out onto the bleak December day below. She raised her eyebrow at the translucent pane of glass in front of her. A party was absolutely the last thing she wanted. Or needed.

"No, Heather. I definitely don't want a party," Catherine sighed. The last few weeks had taken their toll on her. She was tired and agitated and depressed.

"Cat, I'm really worried about you. You've changed since the hospital," Heather got off the couch and shuffled to stand in front of Catherine. "Something is going on that you're not telling me about. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Heather. I just got run off the road, shot by some psycho and almost killed," Catherine said, sarcastically. "If that isn't enough to "change" someone, I don't know what is."

"You're like a different person. You never used to talk to me this way before. I feel like I don't know you anymore and I don't like it. What is it, Cat? What's wrong? Just tell me." Heather pleaded, hurt causing tremors in her voice.

Catherine turned around and faced her sister. She looked closely into Heather's face and saw the emotional toll these last few weeks had taken on her sister. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks looked pinched. Heather's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Catherine sighed. "I'm sorry, Heather. I didn't realize. It's just…"

"Cat, I'm your sister. I'm here for you. What's bothering you?" Heather was extremely earnest. Catherine suddenly wanted to tell her everything. It had been so long since she had been able to speak freely with someone other than Vincent. She was tired of secrets.

"Look, Heather, let's sit down for a moment."

"I knew it! I knew there was something going on. Is it something with work? Did you have a fight with Tess? Is it Evan? Cat, do you like Evan?" It didn't take much encouragement for Heather to come alive with theories.

Catherine sighed and took a breath to steel herself for this conversation. She wasn't quite sure what to tell her sister. She obviously couldn't tell her everything, but how much was enough? She couldn't risk alienating her any further. "OK. Here it is."

"It's Evan, isn't it? Did you two get it on the night he came here for dinner? You're together. You love him!"

"No, Heather. It's not Evan," Catherine rolled her eyes. "What is it with everyone and Evan? Just because I work with a single, smart, attractive guy does not automatically mean I like him. It doesn't mean he's meant for me."

"Certainly sounds like it," muttered Heather, under her breath. "Well, what is it then? Is it a guy?"

Catherine blushed and lowered her head.

"I knew it!" exclaimed Heather. "Who is it? Tell me everything!"

"OK. There is a guy," Catherine exhaled sharply. This was not going to be easy. "I met him…through work. But it's complicated and he's got issues and I…well, I'm not the easiest person to be with. It's been a while since I was in a healthy relationship. I don't know if I even remember how."

"What's his name?"

"Heather, I just…I don't really want to go into too much detail. It's too soon and I'm not sure if it's…real yet. It's still new, you know?"

"Is it that Vincent guy?" Heather asked. Catherine's heart skipped a beat. How did she know? "You know, the one from the wedding. Vincent Zalanski?"

"Oh, no, Heather," Catherine exhaled in a rush. "I really did make him up. This is someone else and it's too soon for me to talk about it in too much detail. Especially now."

"Cat, what happened? Something must have happened, because you have been miserable lately."

"Well, we just started to…you know, move towards something and his ex showed up," Catherine swallowed painfully.

"What? No! So…what happened?"

"Well, she's his ex-fiancé. He hasn't seen her in ten years and I'm pretty sure he still has feelings for her," Catherine confessed in a rush. Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked furiously to clear them.

"Oh, no," Heather covered her mouth with her hand. "My poor Cat. What are you going to do now?"

"Well, I told him to go and sort his feelings out. I said that I didn't want to see him until he figured it out. I don't want to be his second choice. If he's going to be with me, I want it to be because I'm the one he wants, not because I'm all that's left. I don't really expect to hear from him again."

"Well, he's stupid if he picks someone other than you. I'm glad you put your foot down, though. Good for you. This sucks!" Heather leaned over and hugged her sister. "You know what you need?"

"No. But I bet I could guess…" Catherine said, chagrined. "Heather…."

"Come on, Cat. Just let me throw a New Year's Eve party. You won't have to do anything. And I'll invite some guys."

"Heather! I don't want anyone else," Catherine realized what she'd just said. "I, uh…I think that I love him."

"Oh, my. It is serious. Just think, Cat…if we threw the party, it would keep your mind off of your situation. Come on." Heather's face was alive with excitement. Catherine knew she was in trouble.

"Fine," she conceded. She knew she was making a big mistake. "Just close friends and family, though. No guys! I don't think I could handle it. Not too many people. Please?"

"Trust me."

"Why do I feel like those are famous last words? Just a few people. Promise?"

"Oh, Cat. You worry too much," Heather said, rolling her eyes. "It'll be fun, I promise!"

"OK. A party sounds…great," Catherine lied. At least it would take her mind off of things for a little while. And Heather was happy. That would have to be enough.

**xxxxx**

"I'm going out!" Heather called from her bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Catherine asked. She was sitting on the sofa, aimlessly flipping through a magazine. Her wound was itchy and throbbing and she felt restless. She couldn't settle into any one activity for very long.

"To get some stuff for the party." Heather's voice sounded muffled, "maybe a new outfit. Do you want to come?"

"Not this time, Heather," Catherine sighed. She was in no mood to battle New York shoppers at the end of December. She looked horrible and she felt even worse. She also didn't want to give Heather the opportunity to question her further about her "new guy."

"Do you want anything?" Heather asked, walking into the living room. She zipped up her coat and tied a scarf around her neck. Her eyes betrayed the worry she felt for her sister.

"No, I'm alright."

"What are you going to do while I'm gone?" Heather asked.

"I don't know. Watch TV," Catherine was bored just saying it. She looked around the apartment. Their housekeeping standards had slipped quite a bit since she had been in the hospital. "Maybe tidy up a bit. Get ready for the party. This place could use it."

"I don't know, Cat. That doesn't sound like a good idea to me. Maybe you should have a warm bubble bath. Or, better yet, a nap."

"You make me sound like an old lady. I think a bit of activity would do me good."

"Well, just don't lift anything. Leave all of the dirty stuff to me." Heather leaned over and gave Catherine a quick hug. "Bye!"

Catherine stood up from the couch and started collecting some of the dirty dishes lying around. Heather wasn't much for cleaning, but Catherine usually managed to keep the place relatively neat. However, since she'd returned home from the hospital, she'd done absolutely nothing.

After a couple of trips from the living room to the kitchen sink, she poured some soap into the basin, ran the hot water and started washing dishes. The repetitive nature of the activity soothed her. She tipped the soapy dishes onto the drying rack, dried her hands and looked around for something else to do. She was fine as long as she didn't stop to think.

Catherine opened the balcony door a crack to let some fresh air in and she started puttering around the living room. She straightened the pillows on the couch, folded the blankets and picked up newspapers and magazines from the floor.

Heather's magazines were everywhere! She gathered as many as she could carry and dumped them on Heather's bed. After the third trip to Heather's room, Catherine noticed that there were still more magazines on top of the TV stand. It seemed like most of Heather's disposable income was spent on fashion and lifestyle magazines. Catherine chuckled to herself.

She lifted a badly stacked pile from the TV stand and carried them towards Heather's room. There were too many of them and they were balanced precariously. They tipped out of her arms and onto the floor. Catherine exhaled sharply and carefully bent to pick them up.

While she was kneeling on the floor she saw a little package wrapped in pretty red and white Christmas paper lying among the magazines. She didn't recognize it at all. She picked it up, turned it over and saw a red bow and her name written on the paper in black pen. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew that writing.

She sat back on her heels and placed the small parcel gingerly on her lap. She took a deep breath and started to open it. Her hands shook as she gently pulled the tape from the paper. She slipped her fingers under the edges, smoothed them open and pulled out the small black box within.

Catherine grasped the edges of the box and opened it. She inhaled sharply and covered her mouth with her hand.

**A/N – Thursday, Thursday, Thursday! It's finally here! I'm not so sure about what we're in for tonight, though… (Jan. 31/13)**

**Thank you for all of your lovely words and reviews. Your support keeps me writing!**

**Check out my new story: a one-shot (my first) called "Forever." You'll need some tissue for this one! Please read it and let me know what you think! xA**


	9. Friends

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 9 - Friends

**Playlist: Passenger – Feather on the Clyde (Acoustic)**

Catherine was frozen to the spot, her eyes wide, her mouth open.

Inside the little black box was a carefully folded piece of white paper. She withdrew it gently and pulled it open.

The words written on it made her eyes fill and her heart hope and ache with emotion.

**Catherine,**

**My heart is yours.**

**It has been for 9 years.**

**V**

Inside the black box was a delicate silver heart-shaped locket hanging from a finely wrought silver chain. It had the patina of age on it and two interlocking hearts etched onto its face. Catherine turned it over and saw the initials 'M.K.' engraved on the back in elegant calligraphy.

She pulled back the clasp on the heart and swung open the doors of the locket. Inside were two pictures. One of the hearts contained a miniature picture of Vincent. He was looking directly at the camera and he was smiling, carefree, happy. His haircut and scar let her know that this picture was relatively recent and not one that could have been taken in his life before. With Alex. The other side contained a picture of Catherine, smiling, looking down, glowing. She wondered when that photo had been taken. She looked so happy and young. It had been so long since she had smiled that she had almost forgotten what it felt like. She snapped the locket shut as tears started flowing silently down her cheeks.

With shaking fingers, she gently lifted the necklace out of the box, opened the clasp and placed it around her neck. She dropped her head into her hands and sighed.

If his heart belonged to her, then what was he doing with Alex? She started to wonder about the gift. When had he written that note? When had he left it for her? Was it before he started spending time with Alex, before she came back into his life? Had she found it the same day he left it? She had no idea. This present still didn't change the fact that he loved Alex and had chosen her.

**xxxxx**

Catherine fiddled with her phone. She wiped the screen on her sweater and changed her background display three times. She downloaded five new apps. She checked her email. She picked it up and put it down several times. Finally, she just couldn't handle it anymore.

"_Is he OK?_" Catherine hastily texted JT. She didn't even know Vincent's newest phone number.

"_Yes_," was the brusque reply, ten minutes later.

"_Is he with her?_" She texted back, torturing herself, unable to let it go…to let him go.

"_Yes_," was JT's response, quicker this time.

"_Is he happy?_" she tapped out, her heart in her throat. If he was happy…that was what mattered. He deserved it after all he had been through. If he was happy, she would leave him alone.

"_NO_," was JT's almost instantaneous reply, the capital letters screaming at her. "_HE'S NOT_."

Catherine put the phone down on the coffee table. She pushed it away from her and leaned back on the sofa. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over, unchecked. Time passed her by as she sat in the dark and gave into her emotions.

She was startled by the chirrup of her phone. Another text. She picked it up and stared at the three words on the screen.

"_He needs you._"

**xxxxx**

Hours later, Catherine knocked at the front door of the warehouse, her heart beating so fast she thought it would pound its way out of her chest. This was probably a stupid idea. No answer. She tried again. "Vincent? JT?"

She heard a faint noise coming from the depths of the cavernous building. Ordinarily, she would have just let herself in, but things were weird between her and Vincent at the moment.

"I'm coming, I'm coming…sheesh! Keep your shirt on!" She could hear JT's exasperated voice coming from within. The lock flicked and the door creaked as it swung open. JT held the door against himself, blocking her view and her entrance to the interior. He was as friendly as ever. "What?"

"Is Vincent here?" Catherine asked tentatively. "I need to talk to him."

"No, he's not. Hasn't been here all day."

"Oh, OK. Of course not. Thanks. I'll just go, then," Catherine mumbled, turning to leave. She didn't need to ask where he was. She knew.

JT sighed as Catherine retreated. "Catherine, wait. Do you want to come in for a bit? Have something to drink? Some tea?"

Catherine composed her face and tried to hide her surprise as she turned back towards him. "Really? To be honest, I'm not much of a tea drinker. Do you have any coffee?"

"I can make some," JT said with a smile on his face. He led her into the warehouse and up the stairs to their living quarters.

"Sit down. Coffee will just take a second," JT motioned her to their old vinyl dining room set. He pulled out a chair for her. He moved into the kitchen, put some grounds into a filter and flicked the machine on. He put the kettle on to boil for himself and came to join Catherine at the table.

"So Cat, what's up?"

"I just came to see Vincent. I needed to talk to him. To see him. Make sure he's OK, you know. It's been a while. It was probably a bad idea."

"Look, Cat…" JT struggled with his words.

"Is he with Alex right now?" she asked, cutting JT off. She already knew the answer.

"Yeah, he is," JT responded. The kettle sounded and he stood up and moved into the kitchen area. He poured some hot water into a cup for himself and added a tea bag. He filled a mug with coffee for Catherine. "How do you take your coffee?"

"Black," she answered.

"Big surprise," murmured JT under his breath. Catherine accepted the coffee with a word of thanks and began to toy with the rim of the mug.

"Vincent said that the two of you grew up together with…with Alex. What's she like?" she said, hesitantly.

"Oh, Cat, really? Do you really want to know?"

Catherine looked up at JT. "Yes, I really want to know."

"OK, fine, but you're not going to like it. Alex truly is one of the nicest people I've ever met. She was always the coolest girl. All the girls wanted to be her, all the boys wanted to be with her. You know the type. She's gorgeous and smart and funny and she loved Vincent."

Catherine grimaced. "Vincent said that you knew each other growing up, but he didn't tell me much. I'm pretty curious about them. I can't…I can't really imagine him in that life."

"Alex moved to the old neighbourhood when she was five. Her parents had bought the house next door to the Keller's. Almost immediately, she came over to Vincent's house by herself, knocked on the door and introduced herself. She had a lot of nerve and spunk. She started tagging along with Vincent and me and Vincent's brothers. We couldn't get rid of her," JT chuckled, lost in memories of happier times. "Eventually, we stopped trying to ditch her and she became one of us. The five of us did everything together. This continued until senior year of high school. Then things changed."

Catherine's heart broke a little as she watched JT talk about his past. His face lit up and he was alive in a way that she hadn't seen before. "Changed how?"

"Alex and Vincent started spending time together. Alone. They started dating. The five of us still hung out together, but it wasn't the same. The dynamic had changed and there was no going back to the way things were," JT's voice was filled with regret. "Vincent got a scholarship to university and moved away. He finished university and went on to medical school. He was extremely dedicated and wouldn't let anything stand in the way of his goals."

"That sounds like Vincent," Catherine said, smiling.

"He and Alex continued to see each other, though. He would come home every weekend without fail. He'd see his parents, see us and then go off and spend the majority of his time with her. Alex went to community college and studied to be a nurse. I think they wanted to go work somewhere together, open up a free clinic, join Doctors Without Borders or something, really make a difference, you know? They started talking marriage while he was doing his residency. It had always been on the table and alluded to, but now they were serious about it. He proposed to her and well, you know the rest…"

"Yes, I do," Catherine said with a weak smile.

"It seemed natural for them to be together, to get married. They had been a couple for so long, talked about it, planned for it. No one was surprised when she showed us the ring. We were so happy for them. But…."

"Don't worry, JT, I understand," said Catherine. She sighed and lowered her head into her hands. "I don't know why I'm doing this anymore. I know that I can't compete with her. I don't have a history with him. Heck, I don't even have a present with him! We've only known each other for a short time and this Alex thing, I think it's ruined the chance of anything more. I'm sorry, JT. I didn't mean to come over here and burden you with all of this. I know how you feel about me…about Vincent spending time with me. I think I should go."

Catherine pushed her chair away from the table, scraping it against the floor. She stood up and wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Catherine, wait. Sit down. There's something I need to tell you."

Catherine sat back down, but wouldn't meet JT's eyes. "I admit it. I was definitely not Team Catherine when we first met. The last thing we needed was a cop sniffing around here. We were perfectly happy hiding here, forgotten by society, left alone. It had worked for almost ten years. Not only that, but it's not like you were a big, bald, fifty year old dude or anything. No, of course not. We should be so lucky. And on top of all of that…"

"You mean on top of me not being a big, bald dude?" Catherine asked, her eyebrow quirked.

"Yes. On top of that, you were the girl Vincent saved nine years ago. The one he couldn't shut up about. Seriously. If I had heard your name one more time, I swear I would have killed him. He started following you and keeping tabs on you, risking everything to be near you. It was horrible."

"Oh, well, thanks, JT. I like you too."

"You know what I mean. And then you showed up here, you starting hanging out together and…he changed. He was risking his life to save people, going out more, feeling more 'alive.' I thought we were screwed," JT exhaled, running his hands through his hair. "But we weren't. You helped him, you covered for him, and you protected him. You kept him safe. Trust me, I never thought I would say this, but he needs you in his life."

"He doesn't need me anymore. He's got Alex now. Alex changes everything."

"No, she doesn't! Don't you see…you keep pushing him away, telling him he needs to go to Alex. And Alex, she keeps offering him things, things he stopped wanting years ago. He came home yesterday spouting some nonsense about being a doctor in a free clinic in Nigeria. I mean, come on! She's dangling an unrealistic dream in front of him and you keep pushing him away." JT was emphasising his words by waving his hands around. He was clearly frustrated.

"But…"

"Well, what's he supposed to think? What would you do if you were in his situation? She's offering him normal and a chance to go back to his past. Now you and I both know that that's never going to work, but she doesn't know that," JT paused and took a sip of his tea. "And you? What are you offering him? Nothing. Less than nothing. You aren't even offering him hope. Catherine, he's with her right now because she is offering him a fantasy. He thinks she can offer him the life that he wants. It's an unrealistic life, but he's not thinking clearly right now. Cat, he loves you."

"But…"

"Catherine. He loves you."

Catherine froze and tried to make sense of this information. "I've been so…stupid."

"Well, then, that makes two of you," JT snorted.

Catherine looked up, hope shining in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Cat, he's miserable! He hardly sleeps anymore. He's up all night in his room, mooning about, doing push ups, using that damn punching bag. He even put his fist through the mirror in the bathroom. Let me tell you, it's made shaving incredibly difficult."

Catherine leaned forward and as she did so, the locket slipped out from behind her shirt. JT saw it and inhaled sharply.

"What?" Catherine asked, looking up at him. "What's wrong?"

JT wouldn't meet her eyes. He was looking at her neck. Catherine suddenly felt self-conscious. She brought her hands to her throat and felt the necklace. "JT?"

"I haven't seen that necklace in years. I wasn't even sure that he still had it. Wow. He gave it to you? When?"

"I don't know. He left it at my apartment sometime last week. It was meant to be a Christmas present. JT? You recognize it?"

"Sure do. That locket belonged to Vincent's mother, Cat."

"What does 'M.K.' stand for?" Catherine asked, tracing her finger softly over the engravings.

"'M.K.' stands for 'Mary Keller,' his mom. Vincent's dad gave it to his mom on their first anniversary and she gave it to Vincent when he went off to war. She said it would bring him good luck and keep him safe. He never got to give it back to her."

Catherine sat there, stunned. Her mouth opened and shut as she tried to find words to say. "Oh, JT. This is such a mess. What should I do?"

"Cat, I need to ask you something. Something important. How do you feel about Vincent?"

"JT! Well, that's…I mean…He's such a great…you know…I think that," Catherine stuttered, unable to put her feelings into words.

"Cat! I need to know. And you need to be able to tell me. How do you feel about Vincent?" JT repeated.

Catherine paused for a long moment before looking JT in the eyes. "I love him."

"Well. Well," he said, exhaling sharply. "Good. Now, what are you going to do about it? One of you needs to say something, to do something to end this."

"But, JT, you keep forgetting. It doesn't matter how I feel. He has Alex now. He's with her. He loves her."

"Catherine! Have you been listening to a word I've been saying all night long? I'm going to tell you this once more and then I'm done. Are you ready? Vincent. Does. Not. Love. Alex. He loves you. You got that?"

"But JT…"

"Cat, he loves the free and easy lifestyle she can offer him. He loves that she knew him when he was 'normal.' She brings him closer to the carefree person he used to be. She makes him forget about the Beast. He can relax and have fun around her. But Catherine, what they have, or had…it's nothing compared to what the two of you feel for each other, what you could have. Nothing. Their time together is based on mutual delusions and denial, on a shared history. That's it! Be patient with him. He loves you. I know that for a fact."

"Has he told you that, JT? Has he used those actual words?"

"Well, no," he answered, truthfully. "He hasn't used those words, exactly, not to me. But Catherine, he doesn't love her. I promise. When he comes home at night, he never mentions her at all. Ever. He keeps talking about you, wondering what you've been doing. Missing you. I'd make fun of him if it wasn't so sad and pathetic. He's depressed all the time. I know that Vincent doesn't want to hurt Alex again, and he wants to make sure she has closure this time. He wants to know that when he leaves, she'll be OK and not pining away for him forever. That's all it is. I know he wants you, loves you. He gave you his mom's necklace."

"JT, I've got to go," Catherine sighed. Vincent had never told JT that he loved her. They lived together and were as close as brothers. If he really felt that way, why hadn't he said anything? "Please don't tell him I was here. Please?"

JT rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll just stand back and let this stupidity continue. Why don't you come back tomorrow? I could make sure he's in."

"No, I can't. My sister's throwing a New Year's Eve party tomorrow night. I have to be there or she'll kill me. Maybe some other time," she said, her voice fading. "Thanks, JT. I'll see you around."

"Bye, Cat. I'll show you out," JT said. Catherine got up from her chair and followed JT towards the door.

"Thanks for this, JT. You're really sweet." Catherine leaned forward and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Whoa, Catherine…don't you think you need to sort out your feelings for Vincent before you start moving in on me," he put his hands up in mock surrender and grinned.

"JT!" she exclaimed, and smacked him on the arm. She turned away and walked to her car, giving him a brief wave as she opened her door.

As soon as she was out of sight, JT pulled out his phone, dialled a familiar number and waited as it rang.

**A/N: Although I loved Thursday's episode, it was definitely hard to watch in spots! Can't wait for them to resolve all of this drama! Love JT (played by Austin Basis) on the show and wanted to give him some "screen" time in my story.**

**Thank you to all of you who took the time to read and review this story. It has grown into so much more than I was originally planning. This is because of all of you. My deepest thanks.**

**Don't forget to check out my first ever one shot (another BatB story) called "Forever." Let me know what you think. xA**


	10. Party

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 10 – Party

**Playlist: Fun (ft. Janelle Monae) – We Are Young**

"Isn't this great?" asked Heather, her glance sweeping the apartment, her smug grin splitting her face from ear to ear. "Everyone's here."

The music was pumping a mesmerizing beat and the apartment was filled to its seams. Catherine looked around and knew she should be angry, but she just couldn't bring herself to care. She was too preoccupied with other thoughts.

"Yeah, it's great," Catherine yelled unconvincingly, trying to be heard over the noise of the music. Her 'close friends and family only' warning had been completely disregarded by Heather and their apartment was overrun with people, several of whom Catherine didn't even recognize. Her father and Brooke had made an appearance earlier, but had left long before the party had truly started. At least Tess had shown up. That was something.

Heather had a half-full martini glass in one hand and a noise maker in the other. She was teetering around the apartment in heels, wearing a silly hat, mingling with all of the guests and taking her hosting duties extremely seriously. "Cat, you should mingle. It's your party, too!"

"Oh, Heather…I'm not really in the mood. My…er…wound is acting up," Catherine winced dramatically, clutching her shoulder and grimacing. "I think it's better if I just stay here with Tess. You know, low impact partying. Besides, you are a much better hostess than I could ever be."

"Well, that is true. But you should at least try to have some fun. Would it kill you to smile?" Heather whined.

"Yes, it just might," Catherine deadpanned. She shooed Heather away with her arms, "Go! Go to your people. Party. Have fun. Leave me here and save yourself."

Heather flapped her hand in a very vague wave and her retreating form was soon lost in the thronging crowd.

"It's a good thing half the precinct is here or else this place would have been shut down by now for sure," Tess said, nursing a beer. She and Catherine were sitting in the window seat, watching the action around them. "So, uh, where's Evan? Did Heather invite him?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. "I have no idea. Where's Joe?"

"He's with his wife tonight. Uh, I mean, I have no idea," Tess sighed. Catherine looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Tess? What's going on?" Catherine pressed, "You hinted at something last time we spoke on the phone but you never went into detail. Talk to me. What's up?"

Tess ran her long fingers through her hair and sighed. Catherine tucked her feet beneath her on the window seat and tilted her body so she was looking directly at Tess. "OK, fine. But you can't tell anyone."

"As if I would," snorted Catherine.

"I've had to stay late a few times these past few weeks, extra paperwork, no partner, you know the drill."

"So now it's my fault?" Catherine asked in mock outrage, before laughing and rolling her eyes at her partner.

"No! Of course not," Tess exclaimed. "It's just that Joe has also been working late. I don't know. Things have been a bit different with him. Charged up or something, you know? It all started with that damn photo booth at your party."

"My fault again? I think you need to blame Heather for that one."

"Drink your wine! As I was saying...Joe's been staying late, too. The other night…" Tess faltered and took a large swig of her beer. Catherine had rarely seen her partner this flustered before. Usually Tess kept her emotions on lock down.

"Tess?"

"OK, sorry. The other night, I went into Joe's office to ask him a question about some paperwork and…things got weird."

"Weird? Weird how? Like naked weird?"

"No! No! Nothing like that. But, we kissed," Tess looked down and Catherine could see a blush creeping up her cheekbones. "A couple of times. But Cat, he's married! Married! I don't want to be the other woman. I mean, Joe's great and all…"

"But he's married," Catherine put a comforting hand on her partner's arm. "I understand. Do you know what you're going to do?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that. He's married. What can I do? I do _not_ want to be the other woman. I don't want an affair with an unavailable man. Why can't I find someone who's available? I just want a nice guy who is sweet and funny and not a suspect. I wouldn't say no to hot, either. Is that so much to ask?"

"Tess. He's out there. The right guy is out there for you. You just need to be patient."

"Catherine, I've been patient for a long time. What's wrong with me?"

"Tess, nothing is wrong with you! How can you say that? Have you seen yourself? You're amazing! Please never doubt that."

"Fine. You're not so bad yourself!" Tess and Catherine tapped their drinks together and they each took a sip. "But if you're amazing and I'm amazing, why are we still alone?"

Catherine sighed. She didn't like the direction the conversation was taking. "I have no idea."

"The only logical conclusion is that we're fine but there must be something wrong with all of the men in New York."

"Now that I will agree with," said Catherine, raising her glass of white wine and taking another sip.

"Changing the subject now…how about you and Evan? Heather texted me about that dinner you had together. She also said that you were particularly quiet on the subject every time she brought it up afterwards. What's going on?"

"Not you, too! And, by the way, how is that a subject change?" Catherine groaned. "I finally got Heather to stop talking about it and now here you go."

"It's a subject change because it's not about me anymore. Now tell me! What happened between the two of you? And why isn't he here tonight? I would have thought for sure that you or your sister would have invited him."

"Well, he came over, made dinner for me," Catherine rolled her eyes as Tess made an uncharacteristic 'awwww' sound in response to that statement. "As I was saying, Evan came over, made dinner for me, we watched a cheesy Christmas movie and then…we…"

"Yes? And then we…?" Tess moved forward to the edge of her seat. "And then we what?"

"Kissed. OK. Evan kissed me. And I kissed him back. But…"

"Aha! I knew it!"

"Knew what?"

"You are totally into him. You and Evan. Wow."

"Tess," Catherine warned, "there is no me and Evan. You didn't let me finish. We kissed and…I couldn't. I just didn't feel anything for him. He's a great guy, one of the best, but he's not for me."

"Oh, Cat. I guess that explains why he's not here tonight. Poor Evan!"

"Poor Evan?"

"Cat, you'd have to be blind not to see it. He's totally into you. "

"Yeah, I know that. I just couldn't lead him on. I…" Catherine hesitated and didn't finish her sentence.

"You what? Is this about Complicated Guy?" Tess looked at Catherine and Catherine wouldn't meet her eyes. "You can't even look at me! Spill! It's about time you told me something about this mysterious man."

"Fine. I've known him for a little while now, a couple of months and…I don't know. Tess, there's been so much drama with him and part of me knows I should just end it, you know. Just stop seeing him, calling him, being near him. Go cold turkey. Quit him forever. Rip off the bandaid." Catherine looked down and studied her hands. Confessions had always been extremely difficult for her. "But there's another part of me, a bigger part, which knows that wouldn't work. I have to be near him. It's like I crave him or something. That sounds pretty stupid, I know."

"No, no it doesn't. Really. But this sounds great, Cat! Why have we been calling him Complicated Guy all this time? This situation sounds pretty simple to me."

"Oh, Tess. It's not, believe me. There are some…things about him, things that we can't change. Really complicated things. He was in the army years ago and he suffers from a pretty…um…severe form of PTSD. He sometimes has a hard time handling his emotions. On top of that, he's just seen his ex-fiancée for the first time in ten years. His pretty, sweet, and perfect ex-fiancée."

"Ouch. But wait, go back. In what way does he have problems with his emotions? Cat?" Tess looked worried and leaned closer to her friend.

"Oh, Tess. No. Nothing like that! Believe me. It's not towards me. He would never do anything to hurt me. I trust him completely. He's gentle and sensitive and caring and he takes care of me and protects me and I think I…" Catherine sputtered and hesitated.

"Yes? You think you…"

"Oh, Tess, I think I love him."

"Woo hoo! Catherine Chandler! In love! I thought I would never see the day! This should be very interesting. Does Heather know?"

"Shhh…keep it down! Yes, Heather knows. A bit. But I certainly don't want anyone else in on this."

"Oh, Cat. It's so loud in here. Don't worry about that. So, have you told him this?"

"Well, not exactly. I sort of started to, in the hospital, but he chose that moment to tell me about his ex-fiancée. I didn't really get another chance."

"What did you say, when he told you," Tess was curious. She couldn't picture any of this. Her partner usually kept things pretty close to the vest.

"I told him that he needed to figure out what was going on with the ex and how he feels about her. I don't want to be his second choice. I didn't want him to just be with me and then always wonder 'what if?'"

"So, has he figured it out yet?"

"Nope. And I told him that I didn't want to see him until he did. It's been a little while and it's…so hard. At this point, I actually don't think I'm going to hear from him."

"Well, Cat. I know it's hard, but things will work out, one way or another. I think you did the right thing, if that means anything to you." Tess leaned in and gave Catherine a hug. Catherine clutched her best friend tightly, glad to have such an understanding shoulder to cry on.

"It does. Thanks. Anyway, let's really change the subject. I don't think I can handle much more of this." Catherine's eyes were starting to fill with tears. She'd cried more in the last two weeks than she had in the last nine years combined. "How's work?"

**xxxxx**

"Oh, my God, Cat! Can I have a sip of that?" Heather wandered over to where Catherine and Tess were still sitting, her shoes missing and her party hat askew. She flopped between them on the window seat, grabbed the bottle out of Catherine's hand and starting gulping down water. "I'm having so much fun! And it's not even midnight yet!"

Catherine shot a look at Tess behind Heather's back and rolled her eyes, "That's great, Heather!"

"What are you two doing still sitting here? You've been here for hours and you can talk anytime. No wonder you're single. Now get up and go meet people! You both need someone to kiss at midnight!"

This time Tess shot Catherine a look and raised her eyebrow. "Alright, Heather. We'll be there in a second. What a tragedy it would be if we missed out on our midnight kisses."

"See, Tess, I knew you'd understand! Oh, new recruits!" Heather cheered and sprang up off the window bench. The front door had opened and a new flock of people poured into the apartment.

"Yay!" said Catherine sarcastically, giving Heather a 'thumbs up,' "Can't wait!"

Heather twirled off and was soon lost in the crowd of new party goers. There were so many people in the apartment that Catherine couldn't see past the end of the couch from where she was sitting. There were couples scattered all over, people were drinking and talking on the balcony and several pieces of furniture had been moved out of the way to create a dance floor in the living room. The place was packed.

"Drunk Heather is pretty funny," Tess remarked.

"I know, but the last thing I need is to kiss some random guy on New Years just to make her happy."

"Then don't!"

A new song came over the sound system. Tess started moving her head along with the first bars of music. The second her hands started tapping in time to the opening drum beats, Catherine knew she was in trouble.

"I love this song!" Tess said. "Let's dance!"

"Seriously?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah, I mean it. We don't need to sit here and talk about this anymore. It's not going to change anything and it's probably going to make us feel a lot worse about ourselves. We are young, hot and single. Is that how young, hot, single girls start the New Year? Sad and depressed?"

"You know what? You're right, Tess. Let's go!"

Catherine dropped her water bottle on the bench and followed Tess onto the crowded dance floor. They wove their way into the middle of the crowd and started dancing. Tess immediately threw her hands up in the air and started moving to the music. Catherine was a little more hesitant, but it didn't take long before she lost herself as well. She closed her eyes and finally let herself have fun.

Before long, a shriek rang out through the living room. "Cat! Tess!"

Heather picked her way towards her sister. Her hat was missing and her hair was dishevelled. She immediately started dancing with Catherine and Tess. Heather belted out the words to the song at the top of her lungs. Catherine looked at Tess. Tess looked at Catherine. They both shrugged and joined in, throwing their arms in the air and caution to the wind.

Catherine smiled a deep, genuine smile and she realized, in that moment, everything was perfect. She was with her sister and her best friend, she was young and a new, fresh year was about to start. She didn't need Vincent.

"Ooo…Cat! Drop dead gorgeous guy at 11 o'clock totally checking you out," Heather shouted to be heard over the music. "Look behind you!"

"Really Heather, could you be any louder or more obvious? Besides, I don't care. The last thing I need is more guy drama. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Fine, Cat. Have it your way. Maybe I'll have to go and chat up that hottie myself," Heather said, appreciatively. She kept dancing while she was talking, waving her hands frenetically in the air. "With that scar on his face he sort of looks like a pirate. Yum, I like pirates. Never mind! He's mine…just as soon as this song's over!"

"What? What scar?" Catherine grabbed Heather's arm and looked up for the first time.

"That guy behind you. I wouldn't have thought so, but it's sort of amazing what a scar can do for a man. Very rugged and manly," Heather smacked her lips approvingly.

Catherine finally turned around and followed Heather's gaze. Standing against the far wall was Vincent. He was looking directly at her and his eyes burned hers with their intensity and heat.

**A/N – I love Tess (played by Nina Lisandrello) and needed to give her and Catherine a chance to hang out and really talk. I love their chemistry on the show. **

**BTW, I really liked "Cold Turkey" (1x12). It was definitely painful in spots, but I especially loved the last scene where Catherine got to hang out and sing karaoke with Heather and Tess. She looked so light and carefree and happy. However, I sort of felt like Vincent needed to see her like that. I wished that he had been lurking in the bar and watching her (not like a stalker, just like a guy in love). It didn't happen on the show so I made it happen here.**

**As ever, thanks for all of your love and reviews, Beasties! xA**


	11. Midnight

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 11 – Midnight

**Playlist: Charlene Soraia – Wherever You Will Go**

Catherine looked over at Vincent. She saw the heat in his eyes, the intensity present in his face. A quick jolt of electricity ran up her spine. She saw a quick flash of yellow tinge his irises. She looked away from him and sucked in a painful breath. She couldn't bear to be near him and know the truth: he had chosen Alex.

Vincent pushed away from the wall and started to walk towards her. Catherine couldn't bring herself to look at him again.

Heather watched the pirate man approach them and she looked over at Cat. Her sister had gone pale and was looking down as though the floor was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. "Cat? Do you know him?"

Tess had also taken in the heated visual exchange between Catherine and the mystery man. She looked over at Heather and answered her question in an undertone, "My guess is that we're finally going to meet Mr. Complicated."

"Damn!" whispered Heather almost inaudibly to Tess. Her mouth dropped open and she continued to watch the beautiful man make his way over to her permanently single sister. "Way to go, Cat."

"I know, right?" Tess whispered back. Vincent walked right by them, his super hearing missing their comments. He only had eyes for Catherine.

"Hey," he opened lamely.

"Hi," Catherine responded, eyes still glued to the floor.

"I got to use the front door," he quipped, foolishly happy with that small fact.

"I see that," she answered, looking up. She was unsure of what to say to him now that he was in front of her. They stood in awkward silence for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk to you, to see you."

Catherine leaned over and dropped her voice, "you do realize that the apartment is filled with cops, don't you? Vincent, you could be exposed."

"I don't care. I had to come. Can we talk?" he asked, sheepish and embarrassed for the first time.

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She was not going to make this easy for him. "Talk."

Vincent looked around him for the first time and noticed that they had an audience. Heather and Tess were looking at them with very satisfied smirks on their faces, hanging on every word that came out of their mouths. They had seen Catherine like this before and knew what he was in for.

"Somewhere private?" he asked, looking briefly in the direction of her bedroom.

"Not there," Catherine scoffed uncharacteristically,

Vincent lightly took her arm and led her to the balcony. She didn't resist him, but she also wasn't rushing to get outside. The door to the balcony was open, creating an easy flow for guests between the indoors and the outdoors. Strings of miniature red Chinese lanterns hung overhead. Heather had had one of her many admirers wrap lengths of fairy lights around the railing and the window frames.

At this point in the evening, most people were inside enjoying the music and the party atmosphere. A few couples were scattered about the balcony, kissing, talking, touching.

Vincent led Catherine to the farthest corner, away from the door. He placed his big frame between her and the rest of the balcony, protecting her from the curious stares of onlookers. People who knew her were a bit astonished as she usually kept her private life extremely private.

"Well? I'm waiting. What did you come to say?" Her arms were folded in front of her, once more providing a physical barrier between them. Her face was impassive and seemingly uninterested.

"Catherine," Vincent pleaded. "I hate to see you this way."

"You hate to see me this way?" she repeated, her voice deceptively calm and quiet. "I am this way because of you."

"Catherine," he said, pain shining in his eyes, his voice catching on her name. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am."

"For what?" she asked, not wanting there to be any ambiguity. She didn't want to misunderstand him this time.

"For everything. For Alex. For staying away from you for so long. For not being here for you while you were recovering. For not telling you how I feel." He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "I've been such an ass."

A hint of a smile touched Catherine's lips. She squelched it immediately, her face resuming its cold mask. She shivered in the cool December air. Vincent shrugged out of his warm wool jacket and gently draped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks," Catherine whispered, adjusting the jacket and slipping her arms through the sleeves. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to drink in Vincent's scent. The moment passed quickly and Catherine's eyes snapped open. She needed to stay strong, to protect herself. "You chose Alex. Why are you here?"

Vincent sighed. "Catherine, I didn't choose Alex. I could never…"

"But you did, Vincent. This whole time I thought you had picked her and were resuming your relationship. I thought I wouldn't see you again. Do you know how much that hurt me? Every single day?"

Vincent lowered his head in shame. His ears burned hotly and his cheeks flushed pink. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Catherine. I hate myself for this. You are the most important person in my life and I've screwed up so badly."

"Did you tell Alex about…you?" she asked.

"No, I didn't. I told you, Catherine. I didn't want to be with her. She doesn't need to know about me."

Catherine sighed and looked down. She put all her hopes and fears into the next question, which she uttered in a whisper, "Did you kiss her?"

"Yes. Well, she kissed me. I didn't stop it," He admitted. Vincent looked at her, his eyes burning with pain.

Catherine took a step back from him, the small of her back bumping against the railing of the balcony. She refused to meet his eyes. "More than once?"

"Yes," he whispered honestly.

"Did you…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish her question, to even say the words.

"No!" He exclaimed. "It wasn't like that. I would never…Catherine, please! I'm so sorry. I don't want to be with her. We just…we have a long history together and we needed closure. We don't have a future together. My future, my only future, is with you."

Catherine's heart felt like it was falling apart all over the floor. Why couldn't he have told her this before he saw Alex again? She choked off a sob and turned her back on him, facing the city and the cold December night. Vincent gently put his hands on Catherine's shoulders and turned her towards him.

"Catherine, I don't want her. I only want you."

"How did you leave things with her?" Catherine needed to know that she wasn't his second choice. It would be unbearable if he came back to her just because Alex had left him first.

"Catherine, this was never about me being with Alex again or about falling in love with her. I know that I didn't do a good enough job of explaining this to you in the beginning, but it's true. Remember what I told you in the hospital? That Alex had taken care of me during a dark part of my life? Well, what I didn't tell you was that after my brothers died, I became addicted to prescription pain meds."

Catherine's eyes widened in disbelief. This was so unlike the Vincent she knew. She knew he didn't drink or indulge in anything very often.

"I used to write myself prescriptions, fill them and then use the meds to try to escape the pain. Alex knew something was very wrong. She found out what I was doing and she helped me to stop. She took care of me during withdrawal and helped me through it. Then I left her and enlisted. What a great way to say 'thank you,' right?" Vincent looked disgusted with himself. He shook his head as though that action could clear the memories of those dark days from his mind.

"I don't know what to say. Is she…are you…?" Catherine couldn't think of a way to phrase her thought.

"Catherine, we're not together. I told her that although I will always love and care for her," Catherine's heart dropped painfully in her chest at this admission. Vincent took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm not _in_ love with her. I told her about you. I said that a future with her was impossible because…I want to be with you."

The sincere look in his eyes almost completely melted her heart. She could feel her resolve slipping.

"Why did it take you so long to realize this?"

"Catherine, I think I realized it right away but everything was so confusing. Memories, emotions, pain…everything I had been keeping buried came back to me all at once when I was with her."

"How do I know this won't happen again? I can't just be your second choice, tagging along by your side until someone better comes along."

"Catherine, you're not my second choice. I promise. It's only ever been you for the past nine years," he rubbed his hand across his face, trying to clear his thoughts.

"Vincent, I'm not sure I can do this with you. It's so hard."

"I know it is, Catherine. That's my fault and I'm sorry. I promise I will make it up to you. I will prove it to you. Every day. I'll do whatever it takes," He brought his hand up to cradle her delicate cheek. Catherine sighed. He was in so much pain and the sincerity shone through his eyes.

From inside the apartment, a loud bass-filled song ended and the melodic strains of a slow song started to filter out through the open door. Vincent looked down at Catherine and cleared his throat. "Dance with me."

"Vincent…" Catherine's tone was full of warning.

"Dance with me again, Catherine," he held out his hand to her. His vulnerability filled his eyes. His outstretched hand shook slightly. "Maybe that's where we've gone wrong: too much talking and not enough dancing."

Catherine looked down and placed her hand in his. There had never really been a choice for her. Her palm was sweaty but he didn't seem to notice.

Vincent led Catherine out from the corner of the railing. She was still wearing his bulky jacket so he slipped both of his hands under it and around her waist, linking them at the small of her back. He held her tightly against his length. Catherine put her hands on his shoulders and looked up into his eyes. He looked so happy to be there with her. She smiled and allowed him to lead her in a very slow dance.

Everything around them disappeared. They existed in a world consisting only of this balcony, this song and each other. They swayed gently together, attempting to regain their equilibrium as a couple.

"Catherine, I love you," Vincent whispered into her ear. He leaned forward slightly and brushed his lips softly against Catherine's forehead. She tensed up and didn't know what to say.

Catherine was completely overwhelmed. It was too much Vincent after such a long absence. He surrounded her with his smell, his jacket, his warmth, his arms. His eyes were shining down on her, reflecting the small points of light dotted around the balcony.

The music stopped abruptly and Catherine heard someone say something inside the apartment. She couldn't make out the individual words and her mind was solely focused on Vincent's nearness. Vincent stopped leading her in the dance, but he kept his hands clasped behind her, cradling her close. They stood there, in each others' arms, not moving, barely breathing. Catherine knew that Vincent could hear the traitorous pounding of her heart. It wasn't fair. She couldn't hear his heart beating.

Catherine was stunned, running his words over and over in her head. He loved her? Did he really? Could she trust him again? This was all happening too quickly. She knew that she shouldn't give into him so soon.

The New Year's countdown sounded from inside and penetrated her fuzzy brain. Catherine and Vincent both turned towards the balcony door, parting slightly. Vincent kept one arm wrapped around her waist.

"10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4…"

Vincent turned back to Catherine. He brought his hand back up to her face, his eyes focused on her lips. She swallowed loudly and looked up at him.

"3! 2! 1! Happy New Years!" A chorus of cheers and noisemakers rang out from inside the apartment. They could hear celebrations spilling out of other apartments and cars honking in jubilation on the street below.

"Happy New Years," he whispered, before closing the space between them and lowering his mouth to hers.

**A/N – I thought this chapter would be hard to write, but I was actually inspired fairly quickly! **

**In reality (aka - the show), I know (and have always felt) that Vincent DOES NOT love Alex. She seemed sort of incidental to the whole thing, merely a catalyst to bring Catherine and Vincent together (eventually). Had Catherine offered him half the things Alex did, he would have been with her so fast her head would spin. Vincent did not act like a man in love with his ex, he acted like a man desperate to relive happier times and to hold on to a future he knew he could never really have. I don't blame him for this, but I do wish that he had treated Catherine better and considered her feelings more often. I wish that he had told Alex that he couldn't be with her because of Catherine, rather than having her freak out because she saw him 'beast out.' **

**Their last fire escape scene was extremely painful to watch. He needed to be more direct in his feelings and leave her in no doubt that she was NOT his second choice, regardless of how things with Alex had turned out. I am not sure he did that. However, in the wonderful world of fanfiction, I am the author and I can make the characters do whatever I want them to do. So I did.**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing. Your words mean so much to me! xA**


	12. Try

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 12 – Try

**Playlist: Sum 41 – With Me**

Catherine froze for a moment as his beautiful mouth descended to claim hers. Vincent's gaze was intense and he was focused solely on his goal. She brought her hand up between them and placed her fingertips lightly against his lips, stopping their forward movement.

"Vincent," she whispered, looking into his eyes. "I can't."

"Catherine," he gasped, painfully coming out of the spell her lips and eyes had cast over him.

"I'm sorry," she looked down at the ground. She couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. She stepped back, out of his embrace. His arms fell limply to his sides and hung there, useless. He sighed.

"It's too soon. I don't want our first kiss to…be like this. I don't want to feel this way…this confused…when it happens. I want it to be…" she didn't finish her thought.

"I know. Catherine, I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean to push you," he apologized, looking awkward. He stepped back from her with a stunned look on his face.

"No, you're not pushing me, please understand that. I'm just not ready for this. Vincent, you say you love me, and that you didn't have romantic feelings for Alex but you just spent the last week with her. I know that you didn't…do anything with her, and I believe that you don't love her but you did kiss her. Even though you don't think you did, you still chose her for that time. She was your first choice in that moment. One kiss with me is not enough to make things better."

"Catherine, you're the one I want," Vincent pleaded. His eyes shimmered yellow momentarily. They quickly returned to brown and he had to blink back the tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

"Vincent, I know," Catherine placed her hand on his arm. Her voice caught as she spoke her next sentence. "All of this, your time away, it…it hurt me so much. Can't you see how much it hurts me? How much it's tearing me apart, even now?"

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Vincent apologized. "I want to do what I can to prove this to you. I want to wipe this week away from your mind. I will do whatever it takes."

Vincent's eyes shone in the fairy lights placed around the balcony. He scrubbed his hand over his face and inhaled a ragged breath. Tears were running silently and freely down Catherine's face, her heart shattered in her chest. She put a hand on the balcony railing to steady herself.

"Vincent, you need to go. I…I need some time."

"Please, Catherine. I'm here for you. You don't need to do this alone anymore. I'm here for you. Call me if you need me."

"I can't, Vincent. You haven't given me your new phone number."

Vincent looked at her, shocked. His eyes were wide and his mouth opened and closed fruitlessly, like a fish gasping for air on land. The reality of the situation came crashing in on him. How truly stupid he'd been. Catherine was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ever. He'd gone on a stupid quest to try to regain his past and his youth and he had ended up hurting the most precious person in his world.

"Vincent, please," she whispered, barely able to get the words out. She needed him to leave before she broke down completely. "Please."

"OK, Catherine. I'm sorry." He turned slowly and walked away, hoping Catherine would call him back. A tear escaped and rolled down his face. He rubbed it absentmindedly away and disappeared into the crowded living room. As soon as Vincent vanished into the apartment, Tess and Heather were by Catherine's side.

"Cat, what happened?" Tess asked, rubbing her hand rhythmically on Catherine's back, soothing her. Catherine shook her head, unable to talk. Jagged sobs escaped her throat; she covered her face with her hands and broke down in front of her two best friends. What had she just done?

Heather wrapped her arms around her sister and held her tightly while she cried.

**xxxxx**

Late the next morning, Catherine was woken by a chirp coming from her phone. She fumbled around before finally locating it on a pile of clothes on the floor. Her eyes were still red and puffy. She had cried herself to sleep.

_"Will you remember me tomorrow?"_ texted an unknown number. Vincent.

_"What?"_ Catherine texted back, completely perplexed. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, _"Vincent, what are you talking about?"_

_"Answer the question,"_ was his quick reply. _"Will you remember me tomorrow?"_

_"Yes, of course."_

_"Will you remember me in a week?"_ Vincent continued.

_"Yes."_ Catherine answered. She sighed. What was going on?

_"Will you remember me in a month?"_ He asked.

_"Vincent, what's going on?"_

_"Just answer the question, Catherine."_ Vincent pressed.

_"Yes."_

_"Will you remember me in a year?"_

_"Yes,"_ Catherine answered.

_"Knock, knock," _he typed.

_"Who's there?"_ Catherine was smiling at this point. He was being…weird. She wasn't sure she had seen him like this before.

_"Forgotten me already?"_ Vincent texted. _"_:(_"_

Catherine almost dropped her phone in surprise. Vincent had just texted her an emoticon. Had the world come to an end? She couldn't help but chuckle as she texted him back. _"VINCENT! What's gotten into you today?"_

There was a pause before his final text. _"Now that you have my new number, have a good day. _;)_" _

Vincent winked at her over the phone? This was definitely new. She tossed her phone onto the nightstand and climbed back into bed. As she pulled the sheet over her head, she couldn't help but roll her eyes and smile.

**xxxxx**

The following day, Catherine woke to bright daylight streaming in through her window. After the last few grey days, it was a relief to see the sun. She sat up in bed and stretched. A breeze came in through the window and tickled the curtains, causing them to dance lightly. It was chilly! She rubbed her arms to try to get some heat into them. She did not remember leaving the window open last night.

She looked over and saw that the window was cracked open. There was something sitting on the windowsill.

Catherine crawled out of bed, retrieved a woolen cardigan from the floor beside her bed and slipped it around her shoulders. She hesitantly approached the wooden sill. Sitting on it was the morning newspaper, a small, white paper bag and a paper cup of take away coffee. Completing the vignette, a single white daisy was lying across the top corner of the newspaper. Catherine couldn't help but smile.

The coffee smelled heavenly and she lifted it up to take a sip. As she did, she noted that on the side of the cup where the barista usually wrote the patron's name, instead of saying "Vincent" or "Catherine," which she would have expected, it said "Beauty." Catherine's heart melted.

Catherine opened the paper bag and a rich buttery smell wafted out. It was a plump, glistening croissant, fresh from the oven. Catherine closed the window and filled her hands with the coffee, the croissant, the flower and the paper and went to have breakfast in bed.

As Catherine sat back against her pillows with the paper, she noticed a handwritten note scrawled in familiar printing at the top of the front page.

It said:

**Catherine – **

**Please enjoy your breakfast in bed.**

**I only wish I could have made it for you myself.**

**Relax and enjoy.**

**V**

**PS – There's an interesting story on page 8 I thought you might like.**

Catherine smiled to herself. She flipped to page 8, found the story he had been referring to and sat back to read, contented and happy.

**xxxxx**

"You know what we need?" asked Tess, the next evening. Joe had not returned her texts in two days. Tess had stopped by Catherine's place. They were in the living room, watching bad cable TV and eating popcorn.

"What?" asked Catherine, not bothering to take her eyes off of the screen. She shoved a handful of salty popcorn into her mouth.

"Karaoke!" Tess proclaimed, extremely proud of her idea. "Let's go to Bobby's. We so need a girl's night out."

Catherine looked at her with wide eyes. She looked down at herself and her glance took in her flannel shirt, her sweat pants and her favourite fuzzy purple socks. Her hair was like a rat's nest piled on top of her head. She shuddered. She was a mess. "Um, Tess, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly dressed to go anywhere. Besides, I'd rather just stay here and wallow."

"Heather!" Tess called at the top of her lungs.

"What?" Heather's voice carried from the bedroom. She poked her head out the door. "Tess?"

"Karaoke at Bobby's in 15?" Tess asked, disregarding the stunned look on Catherine's face.

"Yes!" Heather came out into the living room. "You in, Cat?"

"No," she mumbled, her eyes glued to the screen.

Heather reached down, picked up the remote and flicked off the TV. She glanced at her sister and started rattling off orders. "I have a shirt for you to wear. Go put on your black skinny jeans, I'll do your smoky eyes and leave your hair like it is. Guys like messy hair. Makes them think about being in bed."

"Heather!" Catherine exclaimed, feeling trapped.

"It's true. Now chop, chop! I want you in my room in ten so I can do your make up."

"I haven't had a shower or anything," said Catherine, stalling for time.

"Nice try, you had one earlier." Heather responded. Catherine rolled her eyes. Her sister should have been a detective.

"Tess? What about you?" Heather asked, appraising Catherine's best friend.

"I just need a shirt. Got one I can borrow?"

"Come with me, I'm sure I've got something." Tess followed Heather into her bedroom. Catherine looked around the empty living room and wondered what the heck had just happened. Had she even agreed to this? She couldn't remember. The conversation was a blur. She put the popcorn bowl aside and shuffled off to her room.

Catherine sighed. She didn't want any of this. She just wanted Vincent. She was starting to regret her decision to send him away rather than kissing him. She loved him and that was all that mattered, wasn't it? It would have been so easy to just give in to him. It's what she wanted to do.

She shut the bedroom door behind her and started searching through her closet for her skinny jeans. She found them and brought them over to the bed. As she turned, she saw a pair of eyes looking at her from the fire escape. She gasped and clutched her chest with her hand.

Vincent gently tapped on the window. It was closed. She had gotten out of the habit of leaving it open for him. She could see the sadness in his eyes through the glass pane. She was sure it mirrored the pain in her own eyes.

"Hi," she whispered as she pulled the window all of the way up. She stepped backwards, allowing him to sit on the window frame. "Been there long?"

"No, not long. I just wanted to make sure you were OK." His glance took in her outfit, the dark circles under her eyes and the piles of clothes scattered around her room. That was not like her. "You're not OK, are you?"

"Not really. I was just thinking that I…never mind." She was so afraid of opening herself up to him again. What if she got hurt?

"Never mind what?" he asked.

"No, it's nothing. Don't worry about it. How are you?" her questioning look took in his unshaven cheeks, the lines on his forehead and the dark circles ringing his eyes.

"I've been better," he answered in his deep, gravelly voice. She had missed his voice so much.

"Thanks for the texts, by the way," she said and chuckled.

"What? What's so funny?" he asked, some playfulness entering his tone. He smiled and it lit up his eyes. Her breath caught in her chest. She had no defense against his playful side.

"Nothing. I just didn't even know you knew what an emoticon was let alone how to use one."

"JT showed me," he answered. "I'm not very text savvy. Anyway, you've got my number now. Use it anytime. I mean it. I'll send you the new one as soon as it expires in a few days."

She looked into his eyes. She would willingly drown in them. "OK, thanks. And thank you for my breakfast in bed. It was lovely."

"I'm glad you liked it," Vincent said simply. He glanced over at the bed and spotted her skinny jeans. "You going out?"

Catherine sighed with exasperation, causing Vincent to smile. "Yes. Tess and Heather are dragging me to Bobby's for karaoke."

"You should go. I'm sure you'll have fun."

"Doubtful, but it's better than sitting around here all night long," she sighed. She had missed this, their alone time together.

"Cat! Smoky eyes in two minutes!" Heather yelled from the other room.

"Coming," Catherine called, not taking her eyes off of Vincent.

"I should go," said Vincent, looking down.

"Wait! Vincent, I…" she wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. She lifted her hand to touch his cheek. She hesitated and dropped it lamely back down to her side.

"What?" he asked. He knew she had been about to touch him and wished she had finished the action. "What were you going to say?"

"I miss you. I miss this." She answered honestly, surprising herself.

"Me too, Catherine. Me too." He leaned over and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She moved her head fractionally towards his hand. "Have a good night."

"Bye, Vincent." Vincent was gone in an instant. She pulled the window back down but left it open a crack.

**A/N – I'm sorry to pull a BatB writers thing with the fake out kiss, but I did feel that it was too soon. Don't worry, you will get your kiss (and maybe more…we'll see) in the back half of this story…hmmm…now where have I heard THAT before? **

**I needed to have Vincent grovel some more. I felt that he hadn't done his time yet. And I really, really wanted him to do it on my terms. I'm pretty sure that all of the stuff I'm going to have him do for Catherine isn't going to show up in "Trust No One." **

**This was originally going to be all one chapter (along with the forthcoming Ch. 13) but it was way too long. Vincent's obviously got a lot of work to do. I will try to post the continuation of Vincent's attempts to "woo" Catherine as soon as I can.**

**The 'knock, knock' joke was not mine. I got it off the internet. The same place JT gets his romance tips from.**


	13. Proof

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 13 – Proof

**Playlist: Van Morrison – Someone Like You**

Bobby's was pretty crowded for a Thursday night. Catherine, Tess and Heather were crammed into a booth to the far left side of the stage. Their table was littered with empty drink glasses and appetizer plates.

They had just seen a creepy old man gyrating on stage to Prince's 'Raspberry Beret.' His voice was surprisingly high-pitched and he ran his hands over his body way too often for their liking. By the end of the song he was lying on the stage on his back and kicking his feet up in the air like he was riding a bicycle.

"Well," said Tess when it was finally over, "I need several shots of tequila followed by a shower hot enough to scrub off the top layer of my skin. How about you ladies?"

"Longest four minutes of my life," said Catherine, a grimace on her face.

"Ew. That was gross. Why can't a hot guy get up there and sing? I mean really. Is that too much to ask?" Heather wondered.

"Um, look around you Heather. Do you see any hot guys in here?" Catherine asked, always the practical one.

Heather surveyed the room, "Well, maybe they're all in the bathroom or something."

"Oh, Heather. Always the optimist. I think you need to accept the fact that we don't come here for the hot guys," said Catherine sagely.

"Then why do we come here?" asked Tess.

"For the alcohol and the entertainment, of course. Speaking of which," Catherine said as she stood up, a bit unsteadily, "I'm going to get another tequila. Ladies?"

"Yes, please," said Heather, smacking her lips.

"After that," groaned Tess, motioning towards the stage, "make mine a double."

"Coming up," said Catherine as she walked towards the bar.

**xxxxx**

Several minutes later, Catherine was still at the bar, waiting for her order. It seemed as though everyone needed a drink to help them deal with what they had just seen. As she was waiting, a woman had taken to the stage and was singing 'I Will Always Love You' in a wobbly falsetto. Catherine's ears stung. Her cell phone beeped in her pocket.

_"Go back to your table,"_ Vincent texted.

_"What?"_ she quickly wrote back.

_"Go sit down. Trust me,"_ came the cryptic reply. Catherine whipped her head around, and scanned the crowd, but Vincent was nowhere to be seen.

With one last look at the crowded bar, Catherine walked back to her table empty-handed. She was having a hard time keeping up with this new Vincent. Why did he want her to sit down?

Thankfully, 'I Will Always Love You' woman had stopped singing and the bar buzzed with between song chatter once again. Catherine rounded the corner to her table.

"Sorry about the drinks, guys. It was taking…" Catherine didn't get the chance to explain anything to the girls. She looked over at them and realized that they were not paying her the slightest bit of attention. Their mouths were wide open, their jaws slack, their attention focused on the stage behind her.

"Next up, we have…" the karaoke host announced through the microphone, "Vincent singing 'Someone Like You,' originally by Van Morrison. Give him a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen!"

Catherine turned around slowly and looked up at the stage. There was Vincent, still wearing his wool coat and looking extremely nervous. He wiped his hands on his dark jeans, cleared his throat and took the microphone from the announcer. He looked over at her as the first bars of the piano started playing over the sound system.

The breath left Catherine's body and she sat down in a rush. She had lost all feeling in her legs. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Vincent's but she knew that Tess and Heather were staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction. She honestly didn't know what to think or feel. She was numb.

Vincent looked away from Catherine and gazed out over the top of the crowd. He closed his eyes as he began to sing. His deep, gravelly speaking voice became a deep, gravelly singing voice. Catherine was entranced. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the stage. Away from him.

All talking in the bar ceased the moment Vincent started to sing. The room was hushed and the patrons were hanging on every note. His voice was deep and uncomplicated. He sang well and put his pent up emotions into the words. Heather and Tess had stopped trying to get Catherine's attention and started listening to the song.

When Vincent came to the chorus, he opened his eyes and dropped his gaze to Catherine. He turned towards her from where he was standing on the stage. His eyes blazed as he poured out the words to her.

Catherine could feel tears pushing at her eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand and exhaled sharply. She blinked furiously, her cheeks on fire. Heather rubbed her back and put her arm around her sister. She squeezed tightly.

Vincent continued to look at her, to sing to her. Catherine felt as though they were alone in a room somewhere and he was singing just for her. The tables full of people and the crowded bar disappeared. She and Vincent were the only two people in the world.

All too soon, the song came to an end. Vincent finished the last verse. He said her name as he reached the end of the last line.

Catherine was pretty sure that Van Morrison had never used the name 'Catherine' in the original version. She was momentarily perplexed. She looked back at Tess and her sister. "Um…did he just say 'Catherine'?"

"Yep. Pretty sure that's what he said, Cat," said Tess, her eyes wide. "Way to go, Mr. Complicated!"

"Wow," Heather sighed, "How romantic."

Catherine had no idea what to say. She was speechless. What was she supposed to say to Vincent after that? She looked at Tess and Heather in confusion. Her mind wouldn't grasp what she had just seen and heard.

When she looked back up at the stage, Vincent had gone. In his place was a girl with extremely frizzy red hair attempting to sing the opening bars of "I Will Survive." It was not going well.

"Where is he? Where did he go?" Catherine asked. "Did you see him leave?"

The girls looked around fruitlessly. Tess even stood up and surveyed the room. She walked away from the booth and looked around the bar. When she returned, she wasn't smiling. "Sorry, Cat. He's gone. I couldn't see him anywhere."

Catherine sucked in her breath and looked down at the table. Tess looked down at Catherine. "I could definitely use a shot. Up for some tequila now?"

Catherine nodded mutely, her face the picture of shock and awe.

**xxxxx**

After they had returned home from Bobby's, Heather had put the kettle on to make them some chamomile tea. Catherine hated tea, but she was so unsettled that she let Heather make it for her anyway.

The events of the evening hit her in a rush. Vincent had sung to her. Vincent had sung a love song to her in front of people. She couldn't get the images out of her head. She wished that he had stayed after he had finished singing so they could have talked. She needed to see him, to hear his voice.

When she opened the door to her bedroom, she saw that the window was open again and a piece of lined paper fluttered in the breeze. A rock was holding it in place on the windowsill. Catherine's heart skipped a beat.

Catherine picked up the note, opened it and read it.

**Catherine,**

**A wise woman once said that "being in any relationship is a risk - it's accepting that there are no guarantees." I agree with that. Life has no guarantees. If it did, we never would have met. I can't live with that.**

**The two of us being together is a risk, in more ways than one. That being said, it's the easiest risk I'll ever take. **

**Will you take a risk with me?**

**I'm ready to jump. If you are too, I promise that I will be the one to catch you.**

**V**

Catherine's eyes filled with tears as she refolded the note. She gently put it on her desk and sat down on the end of the bed. She leaned over and put her face in her hands. This was all too much. Vincent was pouring his heart out to her, doing such sweet things for her. She missed him.

Almost immediately, Catherine had recognized her words from her speech at her father's wedding. How had he heard them? Had he been there? He had come back for her? Catherine was having difficulty processing her thoughts at that moment. Her thoughts were slow and sluggish.

Catherine heard a noise at the window. She looked up and saw Vincent, crouching on the fire escape.

"Vincent," Catherine murmured, her voice throaty and hoarse. There were still tears in her eyes.

"Catherine. What's wrong?" he asked, worry showing in his eyes.

"It's…nothing. I just...thank you. For the song and the note," she gestured towards the refolded piece of paper. "For everything. It all means so much to me."

"Catherine, I would do anything for you. I hope you know that," Vincent said, sincerely. His gaze was penetrating and intense.

"I know, Vincent. Thank you." Catherine burst into a fresh round of tears. What was wrong with her? It seemed that once the dam had been opened, she couldn't stop it. The copious amounts of tequila she had consumed probably weren't helping either.

Vincent pushed up the window, climbed through the opening gracefully and was by her side in a moment. He couldn't handle seeing her like this, especially since he knew he was the reason for it. She was crying because of him.

Vincent sat on the bed next to her. "Catherine?"

Catherine looked over at Vincent, her face red, tears falling down her cheeks. She saw the love and concern in his eyes and she couldn't take it anymore. She put her head on his chest and started to cry in earnest. Vincent sat rigid and stunned for a moment before wrapping his strong arms around her.

Vincent held Catherine close to his body as she cried. He started to rock her gently and soothe her with his hands. He could hear her heartbeat and smell her beautiful scent. He was overwhelmed by her. It was torturous. It was wonderful.

They sat like that for a while, not saying anything, just being near each other. Catherine was the first to break away, ending the hug. She sat back from him, embarrassed, hiccupping slightly. She was possibly a bit tipsier than she had originally thought. She couldn't believe that she'd put on such a display in front of him. "Vincent, I'm so sorry. I didn't…"

"Shhh…Catherine, it's OK. Please don't apologize to me." Vincent looked at her, at her glistening eyes, at her full lips, her delicate face. He shook his head. Now was not the time. "Uh…I should go."

Catherine looked disappointed. "OK. Thank you, Vincent. For everything."

Vincent didn't reply. He rose from the bed and reached the window in a few short strides. Once he was outside, he turned back to Catherine. "Catherine, I actually came here to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Will you join me for dinner? Tomorrow night at the warehouse?" Vincent asked rather formally, his face nervous with anticipation.

"Dinner? Y-yes…" she stammered out her answer. "I'd like that."

"Ok. Good," he replied, a bit stunned. He had been worried that she would say 'no'. A smile lit up his face. "I'll see you there."

"Goodnight, Vincent," Catherine smiled.

"Goodnight, Catherine." Vincent disappeared into the night and was gone. Catherine pushed the window down behind him, but she made sure to leave it partway open. Just in case.

**A/N – The 'Raspberry Beret' guy? Totally saw that once. And yes, it was gross. There's not enough tequila in the world, my friends.**

**I chose Van Morrison's version of "Someone Like You" (not to be confused with Adele's song of the same title…they are not the same song) because I thought Vincent's singing voice – judging by his speaking voice – would be a good fit for it. As well, love the lyrics. Look it up on YouTube. It's a great song.**

**If Vincent and Catherine don't kiss for real during the Valentine's episode ("Trust No One"), then I would love to see them hug/hold each other. Other than the dance (Ep. 9), and when they've saved each other, we haven't seen them hold each other. I think it's high time we did.**

**Thank you for your overwhelming and amazing support of this story. I am continually blown away by all of my fellow Beasties. Thank you!**

**Tomorrow is Thursday. My favourite day. Enjoy the new ep!**


	14. Date

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 14 – Date

**Playlist: Maroon 5 - Daylight**

Catherine sat in her parked car for a moment, gathering her thoughts, trying to control her emotions. She looked up at the warehouse, took a deep breath and opened the car door. She looked around to make sure she hadn't been followed. She locked her car, quietly walked over the gravel scattered on the ground and let herself through the break in the chain link fence. It was tricky to do in a dress and heels. She stood up and took a moment to smooth her hair and brush any dust from the ground off of her.

When Catherine got to the door of the warehouse, she lifted her hand to knock. She wasn't really sure of the protocol now. Usually, Vincent forgot to put on the security system and she just walked in. She'd never been to the warehouse on a date before. Her nerves got the better of her and she dropped her hand without knocking. She took a deep breath. After a moment's pause to collect herself, she lifted her hand again and knocked on the big metal door. She could hear the rapping echoing inside the cavernous warehouse.

After a moment, she could hear someone coming. Her heart jumped into her throat and she took a deep breath. The lock was drawn back and the large door swung open with a creak. Vincent stood in the doorway, a smile on his face. Vincent's smiles never failed to knock the breath out of Catherine's lungs. He was wearing a button-up shirt, dark jeans and bare feet. His hair was damp at the edges, as though he had just gotten out of the shower.

"Hi," she said, nervously. The blood in her veins was singing, making it hard to concentrate. She clenched and unclenched her fists behind her back and covertly wiped them on the sleeves of her coat.

"Hey," Vincent replied. He stepped back from the door, allowing her access to the inside. "Come on in."

Catherine smiled up at him as she entered the warehouse. As she passed him, her nostrils flared as she caught a hint of his scent in the breeze from the open door. Vincent smelled good, like soap, a hint of aftershave and warm, freshly showered man. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. She was pretty sure he was listening to it. She couldn't really hide anything from him and, surprisingly, the thought made her smile. She took another deep breath and tried, unsuccessfully, to calm herself down.

Vincent closed the heavy door with a loud click. He placed his hand on her lower back and guided her to the stairs. He stepped back and let her climb them up to the living area. He followed after her.

"Where's JT?" she asked as they reached the top floor. She hadn't been to the warehouse or talked to JT since she had come looking for Vincent that day. She was a little embarrassed by her heart-to-heart with JT and she wasn't sure how much, if anything, he had related to Vincent afterwards.

Vincent took her coat and placed it over the end of the couch. He gestured to the sofa. "Have a seat. JT? He's out with Sarah."

"Oh, that's nice. How's it going? With those two, I mean…" asked Catherine, desperate to keep Vincent's mind off of her racing heart, flushed cheeks and erratic breathing. Vincent went to the kitchen and started working on the food for dinner. He had lit several candles and placed them around the room, concentrating them on the coffee table in front of the sofa and on the dining room table. Many of the overhead lights had been left darkened and the jumping glow from the candles softly illuminated the enormous room. There was a vase full of flowers on the dining room table.

"Well, he doesn't really talk about it much, but I guess it's going pretty well. Third time this week he's been out with her. He didn't come home last night." Vincent commented. Catherine raised her eyebrow. Her traitorous heart started pounding out of control once again. So much for her attempts at containing her emotions. She and Vincent were alone. They had the warehouse to themselves. For the night.

"Um…d-do you need any help?" she asked as she stood up from the sofa. She needed to keep her thoughts and her hands busy. She went and joined him in the kitchen area.

"No, I'm OK here. Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, putting down the knife he was using and wiping his hands on a dish cloth. "Some wine?"

"Wine would be lovely," Catherine answered. At least it would take the edge off of her ragged emotions and give her something to do with her hands. She watched as he poured her a glass of red and put the bottle back on the counter. He went to the fridge and got himself a cold bottle of water. He opened it and took a sip before pouring the contents into a wine glass.

"Is there a reason you don't drink?" she asked, curious. She assumed it would have something to do with the experiments and keeping his emotions in check, but she didn't know for sure and she had never thought to ask.

"I used to, before the experiments. I also drank when I first got back to the States, probably more than I should have. Alcohol lowers your inhibitions, and in my case dangerously so, but I rationalized it by telling myself that it gave me a welcome escape from things. At least temporarily. It actually really messed me up and made it so easy to 'beast out' for the smallest reasons," he replied, toying with the stem of his wine glass. He wasn't looking at her while he made his confession. "The last time I drank was here, with JT. It was about six months after I returned to the States. We'd already had a few beers and we were watching the hockey game on TV. He made a sarcastic comment about something and I took it the wrong way. The next thing I knew, he was crouched down and hiding from me on the other side of the room, sporting a huge black eye. That was the last time I drank."

Catherine had been hovering at the edge of the kitchen as he told her his story. She walked closer to him and put her hand on his arm, offering him some comfort. "It's OK, Vincent. You were just trying to figure things out. It's not like you came with a manual. JT understands. Truly, he does."

Vincent snapped out of his reverie and looked down at Catherine. She looked up at him and smiled. Her hand was still on his arm and he was having a hard time concentrating. He leaned towards her fractionally, before shaking his head, straightening up and returning to the cutting board. He cleared his throat and started slicing tomatoes, his back towards her. Catherine gulped in oxygen and moved away from him.

Catherine propped herself against one of the counters and sipped her wine. She watched him cut the vegetables with some skill. A thought popped into her mind and she decided to ask Vincent about it. "How did you know about the New Year's party?"

"JT," Vincent admitted. "He told me that you had come over here, looking for me."

"Yes, I did. What else did he tell you?" Catherine asked, quirking her eyebrow. She ran her finger over the rim of the wine glass.

"Not much," said Vincent, his back still turned. He chuckled and ducked his head. "He called me on my cell and told me that you were having a party. He said that if I knew what was good for me, I'd do whatever I needed to do in order to show up to your party. Then he called me an 'idiot' and hung up on me. I can't say as I disagree with him."

Catherine smiled to herself. She never would have thought JT would have taken her side in all of this. It was nice to have an ally.

Vincent finished chopping vegetables and moved over to the stove. He opened the oven door and checked on the contents. A delicious savoury aroma floated out from the depths. "I hope you like chicken."

"I do. It smells great," Catherine commented. As Vincent donned oven mitts and pulled a roast chicken surrounded by potatoes out of the oven, Catherine's heart skipped a beat. This was all so normal, something she wasn't used to with Vincent. This was exactly what a boyfriend would do for his girlfriend after he had invited over to dinner. She wanted this with Vincent. She wanted this little bit of normal, this calm between hectic bouts of dealing with Muirfield and all of the other obstacles in their path. She closed her eyes and enjoyed this moment of happiness.

Catherine's daydream was interrupted by the clink of the glass roasting pan on the top of the stove. She looked over at Vincent and was relieved to see that he was concentrating on the dinner and not on her. He lifted the chicken out of the roasting dish and put it on a large plate. He layered the steaming potatoes around it. "Can I do anything to help?"

"You could bring the salad to the table, if you wouldn't mind. Bring the wine, too, if you want it."

Catherine placed the bowl of salad and the wine bottle on the table. She went back for her glass and set it down gently next to one of the place settings. She stood there awkwardly, waiting for Vincent. He did a couple of last minute things at the counter before bringing the entire steaming platter of chicken to the table. He walked around behind her and pulled her chair out for her. She sat down and he pushed it in for her. He touched her shoulder briefly before walking around to the other side of the table and sitting across from her. This was the first time they had eaten together. It felt strange and right at the same time.

They served themselves and started to eat. Vincent was a good cook. Dinner was delicious. "This is good."

"Are you surprised?"

"Well…I guess I never really thought about you cooking at all. I wouldn't say surprised…I'd say appreciative," Catherine said. She took another bite and smiled over at him. His cheeks coloured and he lowered his head. "I've been meaning to thank you."

"For what?" Vincent asked, putting his cutlery down and taking a sip of water.

"For this," Catherine whispered. She put her fingers inside the collar of her dress and pulled out the heart-shaped locket. She looked down at it. "I meant to say something way before now, but we had…other things to talk about. So, thank you. It's beautiful."

Vincent's eyes widened as he saw her wearing his mother's necklace. His voice was husky and he cleared his throat. "It's no problem. I'm just glad you like it."

"I love it. I can't believe you gave me your mother's locket," Catherine said, looking over at him. She reached a tentative hand across the table and laid it gently on his. Vincent moved his hand to grasp hers. He squeezed it lightly. They sat like that for a moment.

"How did you know it was my mom's?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of her.

"JT. He told me that she gave it to you to keep you safe. He also said that…" Here she paused, thinking she had taken the conversation too far.

"What?" Vincent cajoled. "What did he say?"

"He also said that…you never got the chance to give it back to her." Catherine lowered her gaze.

Vincent cleared his throat. "No, I didn't get that chance. However…"

"Yes?" she whispered, looking up at him, her eyes begging him to finish his sentence.

"I think she would be happy if she knew that I had given it to you. It seemed fitting to me. And I hope it will keep you safe."

"Thank you, Vincent. I will treasure it." Catherine replied with absolute sincerity. She gently touched the necklace before slipping it back underneath her dress. She unconsciously patted the spot where it lay before picking her cutlery up again to finish her meal. Vincent looked over at her and smiled.

"Oh…I forgot!" Catherine exclaimed.

"What?"

"Where did you get the picture of me from? The picture in the locket," she asked, extremely curious. "I don't recognize it at all."

Vincent lowered his head and looked sheepish. The circumstances behind the photo clearly embarrassed him. "I took it on my phone at your birthday three years ago."

"What? You were there?" Catherine tried to remember her twenty-sixth birthday. It took her a moment. "I remember that one. It was my first month in the apartment and Heather threw a combination birthday and housewarming party."

"That's right. I didn't come in. I stayed on the balcony and watched. You were so happy that I couldn't resist. I got out my phone and took a picture through the window. It's the only picture I have of you." He said hoarsely. Catherine's heart was close to breaking.

"Let's change that. Stand up." Vincent stood up, perplexed. Catherine took out her phone, pushed her chair out and walked around the table to stand beside him. She put her arm around his waist and leaned into him. Her heart tripped rapidly against her rib cage at his nearness. His muscles flexed under her hand as he put his arm around her. Vincent tipped his head down so it was beside hers. Catherine held her phone at arm's length and snapped a picture of them. She looked up into his piercing eyes and immediately stepped back, breaking the contact between them. "I-I'll send it to you."

"Thanks," he murmured, the moment ruined. "Are you finished with dinner?"

"Yes, thank you. It was delicious. Let me help you with these." Catherine and Vincent cleared the empty plates from the table.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Vincent asked, his hands full of dishes. He piled them in the sink and turned to face Catherine.

"Sure," she said. "That sounds great."

Vincent led the way to the living room, snapping the kitchen light off as he walked by it. The apartment was cast into flickering shadows as the candles provided the only light. Catherine looked at Vincent and quickly looked away. She followed him to the sofa and sat down next to him, curling her feet up under her. Vincent used the remote to select a movie from a long list of choices. "Is this one OK?"

To be perfectly honest, Catherine couldn't concentrate on anything, much less Vincent's choice of movie. He was so near to her and he took up so much of her focus that she felt permanently stunned. She cleared her throat and answered without looking. "Sure. That looks good."

Vincent dropped the remote onto the coffee table and the room darkened momentarily before the opening credits of the movie played. Catherine looked over at Vincent. The candle light flickered in his eyes. He was looking at her. She swallowed, but didn't break eye contact with him.

Vincent leaned towards Catherine. She untucked her feet and moved closer to him. He touched her face and closed his eyes, drawing closer to her. Catherine closed her eyes, ready for this step, ready for him.

She wondered if Vincent could hear her heart pounding, if he could hear the rush of blood chasing through her veins. She would have to remember to ask him one day. But not now. She leaned in for his kiss.

Suddenly, there was a slam. Vincent and Catherine sprang away from each other like guilty teenagers caught in the act. The lights snapped on and a very upset JT entered the warehouse. He let out a stream of very inventive curses and threw his jacket onto the dining room table. Catherine and Vincent looked at each other, their pulses flaring, their cheeks burning. JT was still mumbling as he went to the fridge, got something from inside and slammed the door. He sat down at the table and put his head in his hands.

"Just give me a moment," whispered Vincent. He got up from the couch and went over to sit next to his roommate. Catherine sat on the couch, stunned and unsure of what to do. She couldn't hear much of Vincent and JT's conversation, but JT was gesturing with his hands and Vincent was nodding his head. She stood up and collected her coat.

"Vincent," she called. "I'm just going to go."

Vincent was back at her side in an instant. "Catherine, I'm sorry about this. He's pretty upset. Girl trouble. You don't have to leave, though."

"No, it's OK. He clearly needs you and I'd just be in the way. You should stay here and talk to him. Don't worry about me. We'll see each other tomorrow. Rain check?"

"Definitely," Vincent answered her, heat returning to his eyes. He put his hand on her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her soft skin. She moved her face towards his hand. "Good night."

"Night, Vincent," she said regretfully, before turning to go.

**xxxxx**

A light tap at the window startled Catherine from her doze. She wasn't sleeping, but she wasn't fully awake, either. It took her a moment to recall her surroundings. Her room was dark and illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in through the window. She had no idea what had woken her. She lay in stunned silence for an instant. Another knock sounded at the window. Catherine started and sat up. She clumsily climbed out of bed, went over to the window and pulled it up.

"Vincent?" Catherine asked. It was chilly outside and she shivered. "Come inside. It's freezing."

Catherine ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm them up. Vincent climbed in through the window and stood in front of her. "I just had to see you."

"What's up with JT? Is everything OK?" she asked, looking up at him. His eyes caught hers and she couldn't look away.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Vincent laughed and rolled his eyes. "I got the whole story out of him. It seems he said something he shouldn't have to his lady love and now he's paying for it."

"Oh, no. Poor JT. Were you able to help him?" Catherine asked, concerned for JT and his fledgling relationship with Sarah. JT was a great guy and he deserved to be happy.

Vincent chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, it turns out I have plenty of experience in saying stupid things to the people I love. I gave him some advice. When I left he was on the phone to her, apologizing and trying to explain himself."

Catherine laughed. She looked into Vincent's eyes and the look he gave her froze the laughter on her lips. She swallowed and trembled slightly. A light flash of yellow briefly illuminated Vincent's irises. Catherine cleared her throat, "Vincent…w-what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to finish what we started."

Vincent leaned towards Catherine. He placed his hand tenderly on her cheek and bent over her. Catherine took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She swayed for a moment and tilted her head closer to Vincent's. Their lips touched softly and tentatively at first. His lips were firm and gentle on hers.

Catherine broke the kiss and looked up into Vincent's eyes. The surety and love she saw in his gaze took her breath away. Her heart fluttered like a caged bird trying to break out of her chest. She inhaled sharply and reached up for him. He wrapped her in his arms and enveloped her with his big body. Their kisses became urgent and fevered, a push and pull between them.

Vincent opened his mouth against hers and he slipped his tongue inside of her mouth. She moaned quietly and grasped his shoulders. Vincent heightened his assault and Catherine melted against him. She shyly slid her tongue into his mouth. He growled and lifted her in his arms.

Catherine pulled away from him briefly and looked up at him. "Vincent?"

"Yeah?" he rasped, breathing heavily. He was gently kissing her cheeks, her neck, behind her ear. He could not get enough of her: her warm skin, her beautiful scent, her frantic heartbeats. He touched his tongue to her neck and tasted her pulse.

"I love you," she whispered, quivering against him.

"Oh, Catherine," he ground out, carrying her towards the bed. "You are my life. I love you so much."

**A/N – I am so sorry that this update took so long. That was never my intent. Real life got in the way of my BATB life, I'm afraid. I hope the new chapter was worth the wait, though…**

**My muse decided to wander where she would this past week and I was inspired to write a new one shot for you. This one isn't sad like "Forever," so don't worry. It's called "Solace" and it's in the "M" section (*wink, wink*). Go check it out and let me know what you think. **

**As always, thank you for your overwhelming support of my little story. I'll say this again because I mean every word of it: this story wouldn't have turned out this way if it hadn't been for all of you. In my original plans, "Resolutions" was only going to be five chapters long. You have all inspired me to keep writing and sharing my ideas with you. Thank you.**

**I loved "Tough Love" (1.14) and was so happy that we finally got our VinCat kiss. Woo hoo! It was pretty hot. I hate the fact that we have to wait through another hiatus, but the promos look very…er…promising. I decided to give all of you a VinCat kiss to help you through the next two and a half weeks. Stay tuned for Chapter 15 and thanks for reading! xA**


	15. Beast

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 15 – Beast

**Playlist: Wanderhouse - Sugar**

"Is Heather here?" whispered Vincent as he carried Catherine in his arms towards the bed.

"No," Catherine whispered and smiled. They were finally catching a break. "She's out with some new guy tonight. She told me not to wait up."

"Good," Vincent replied, placing her on her feet next to the bed. Catherine looked up at him and her heart stopped. He was looking down at her like he wanted to devour her. Moonlight reflected in his eyes and she could see the want there. The need for her. "Catherine."

Catherine reached up and placed her hand on his chest. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She met his mouth happily. Catherine moaned and Vincent's vow to take things slowly snapped. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. Catherine's moan grew louder. Her blood heated as she accepted him. Vincent deepened the kiss once more. Catherine tentatively offered her tongue to him. It was his turn to growl. They kissed for a moment before Vincent broke their contact. Catherine looked at him, a question in her eyes.

Vincent looked down at her and moved his hands to her flannel clad shoulders. He noticed that she was wearing the pajamas he had gotten her for her birthday. It looked as though she wore them frequently. Vincent reached hesitant fingers to the top button of Catherine's night shirt. Her pulse was frantic. Vincent looked at her, his eyes asking a wordless question. Catherine swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, unable to meet his eyes. He unhooked the first button and then, slowly, the second. His hands were shaking by the time he reached the third button.

"Let me," whispered Catherine. She cleared her throat. She looked up at him from under her lashes as she made quick work of the rest of the buttons. Her flannel night shirt hung open. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Vincent exhaled sharply as she whispered, "Now you."

Catherine made torturous work out of the buttons on his wool jacket. Vincent's heart rate kicked up a notch as her gentle fingers lingered at the first button, slowly pulling it back through the hole and releasing it. Finally, after much torment, she was done and Vincent exhaled. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath. The jacket was pushed off of his shoulders and it landed in a woolen heap on the floor. If he felt like this when she took off his jacket, he would be dead by the morning.

Catherine gently grasped the ends of his T-shirt in her fingers. She lifted it up and over his shoulders. Vincent obligingly lifted his arms up and helped her remove the shirt. It fell unnoticed to the floor. Catherine looked at Vincent's bare chest and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

Vincent lifted his hands to Catherine's shoulders once again. He grasped the fabric there and pulled it off of her. The flannel slid off of her shoulders and down her arms, landing in a puddle at her feet, leaving her chest bare. Vincent met Catherine's gaze as he lifted her in his strong arms. She put her arms around his neck as he carried her towards the bed. Once she was in his arms, she could hear the pounding of his heart quite easily. She was sure hers was tripping even faster.

Vincent placed Catherine lightly in the middle of the bed. He kicked his shoes off and followed her there. He moved over her, his body gently pressing against hers. She looked up at him and smiled shyly. He was so close it was hard to breathe. Her pulse thudded embarrassingly loudly. He brought his hand to her face and smoothed her hair away, tucking a strand behind her ear.

"You are so beautiful," he said, smiling. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. He kissed her eyes and her cheeks before moving down to her mouth. Catherine closed her eyes and gladly met his lips.

Vincent's senses were on overdrive. His blood felt like it was boiling over in his veins. It was all he could do to keep a thin level of control over himself. He wanted to take her now, but he didn't want to scare her with the force of what he was feeling. Her dilated pupils and the flush colouring her cheekbones were driving him crazy. He could hear the blood rushing through her veins, the pounding of her heart, the hitch in her breath every time he touched her. He knew the effect he was having on her and it made him want to growl with happiness.

Vincent could smell her beautiful scent, her innate Catherineness. The smell of her arousal was intoxicating. He knew she wanted him. He knew how much she wanted him. He leaned over and tasted the salt from her skin in the space where her neck met her shoulder. Her heartbeat was so strong he could feel it echoing in his ears, in his veins.

He kissed her with such passion that she moaned out loud and moved restlessly beneath him. His hand moved from her face to her neck. He felt her pulse stumble under his fingers and he reveled in the fact that he could make her body react to him like this. Catherine grasped Vincent's muscular arms, desperate to hold on.

Vincent moved his hand lower, skimming her collar bone and coming to rest in the valley between her breasts. He placed his palm flat over her heart and looked into her eyes. Catherine placed her hand on Vincent's chest, covering his heart. In that brief moment of contact, their pulses harmonized. They paused, caught in the moment, in each other.

Catherine broke the moment by raising her head for Vincent's kiss. Vincent's hand slid over and found her bare breast. He kneaded it for a moment as he plunged his tongue inside her mouth. Catherine moaned and gasped for breath. She wanted more of him. She whispered his name into the darkness, "Vincent."

Suddenly, Vincent tore his head away from hers and his hand stilled on her breast. Catherine opened her eyes and looked up at him, dazed, her vision unfocused. His eyes were blazing yellow and he was snarling, his breathing jagged and heavy. "Vincent?"

Catherine brought her hands to Vincent's shoulders in an attempt to soothe him. She moved them upwards to his neck. She felt the tension there in his corded muscles. She placed her hands on his cheeks and angled his face closer to hers. Catherine looked into his glazed eyes and whispered, "Shhhh…Vincent. I'm right here."

The skin on Vincent's bare chest was slick with sweat. His forehead was beaded with moisture. A drop fell onto Catherine's cheek. The veins in his neck and chest stood out and goose bumps peppered his skin. His whole body heaved with the effort it took him to breathe.

"Catherine!" Vincent called out. In an instant, he had sprung from the bed, ripping himself away from her. He landed on the floor in a crouch. He growled and looked around, his eyes alert, his nostrils flaring. His back was towards her, his fists clenched at his sides.

Catherine climbed off of the bed, slowly, tentatively and walked around Vincent.

"Vincent," she said, calmly, approaching him from the front. She raised her hands in a placating gesture. She spoke in a soothing whisper. "You're safe. I'm with you. It's OK. Please?"

Vincent looked up at her and his eyes shone yellow. His breathing was harsh and ragged and he remained in a crouched position. Catherine moved closer to him and he snarled. His nostrils flared as he smelled the air.

Catherine slowly put one hand on his bare arm. She moved over and stood in front of him. The beast had all but taken over his body. As he transformed, the veins in his chest and neck stood out, his nails grew thicker and sharper. His teeth were pointed and jagged. Vincent's eyes still glowed and pierced Catherine's heart. He looked at her as though he didn't know who she was.

"Vincent. There's no danger. You are here with me. It's just the two of us. You're safe." Catherine put her other hand on his face and looked into his eyes. She smoothed his hair and made shushing sounds. His breathing slowed and his eyes started to lose their intensity. "Vincent."

Vincent sharp breathing started to slow as he calmed down. He whipped his head back as his face and body started to change once more. He was still crouched in an alert stance, but he unclenched his fists and looked Catherine in the eyes. "Catherine."

"I'm here Vincent." Catherine moved quickly and took him in her arms. She held him close to her, running her hands through his hair, over his back. After a moment, he moved his hands up and returned the hug.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, into her hair.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Vincent." Catherine said.

"Catherine, this is ridiculous. Who does this? I can't even kiss you, hold you, be with you without ruining it." Vincent sighed and shook his head. He stepped away from her, disgusted with himself. Catherine's arms dropped to her sides, empty. "I should go now."

"Vincent, wait. Please don't go. You don't need to leave," Catherine pleaded. She didn't want him to walk away. It had taken so long to build the trust between them. She wasn't sure what would happen if they had lost the faltering progress they had made.

"Catherine," Vincent sighed. He lowered his head and wouldn't look her in the eyes. He searched for his T-shirt. When he found it, he scooped it up off the floor and shrugged it on. He was so flustered that he didn't even notice it was inside-out. "Why do we keep doing this? We are just going around in circles. I am not right for you. You deserve so much better than me. I'm not a man, I'm a monster, a beast. Don't you get that? I can't give you what you want or what you need. This…this is too dangerous for you. Please, just let me go."

"Vincent, I don't want to let you go. I love you. And you are not a monster or a beast. Would you please stop talking like that? We just need to be a bit more careful with each other. We will figure this out. I'll help you. I'm here for you."

"But Catherine…" Vincent was currently looking around for his left shoe. He looked under the bed and under the piles of clothes on the floor before locating it under Catherine's desk.

"Vincent, you keep trying to push me away. Don't you know that we are stronger together? We need each other and I think that we can do anything together. I'm here for you and I want you here for me. Like I said before, there is no manual for you, so we just need to try things out and see what happens."

"Catherine, I cannot take that risk. I can't risk hurting you. Or worse."

"Vincent, I'm not worried. I know that you won't hurt me or kill me. I've stood right next to you while you 'beasted out' and nothing has ever happened before. I trust you and I know that you love me and will keep me safe. I think we just need to try and be in the moment together."

"No Catherine. I can't let myself give in."

"Vincent, of course you can. You are a man and you have needs. We both do. The truth is that I want you so much I can hardly breathe. I know you want me too. Let's try it again," she coaxed. She took his hand and tried to lead him back to the bed. He didn't move.

"Catherine," he sighed. "I'm just worried about what might happen."

"I know you are, but nothing will happen. Even when you are the beast, you are still Vincent. My Vincent."

"Catherine…I don't want…" he stopped mid-sentence.

"What? What don't you want?"

"I don't want you to see me like this. Like a beast," he sighed.

"Vincent, I don't care. I love you, no matter what."

Vincent hung his head and wouldn't look her in the eyes. "What happens if I beast out while we are…together?"

"Vincent, you talk as though you think I'm disgusted by you when you are the beast." Catherine put her hand against his cheek. "I'm not. The beast is part of you. It is just one part of all of the things that make you who you are."

"Catherine…" Vincent shook his head. He had a hard time believing what she was telling him. He hated himself while he was the beast. Why didn't she? He just didn't understand her attitude.

"Vincent, I told you that I accept all of what you are. You need to believe me, believe my words. I accept _all_ of what you are. If you 'beast out' while we are together, it doesn't matter. I trust you and know that you would never hurt me."

"Catherine, you don't know what you are saying," Vincent said, frustrated tears in his eyes. He needed to make her understand how dangerous he was. "You don't want to be with me when I'm like that."

"Vincent, why aren't you listening to me? I'm not sure how else I can say this. I love you. I accept you. I want to be with you. All of you," Catherine took both his hands in her own. "Vincent. Beast. It's all the same to me."

Vincent sighed and shook his head. He just couldn't believe what she was telling him. He didn't deserve this, deserve her. She needed someone else. Someone whole. Vincent retrieved his jacket from the floor, put it on and turned to leave. "I'm sorry, Catherine. I'm repulsive and I need to leave. Now."

Catherine couldn't stop the tears falling freely from her eyes. She couldn't believe he was walking away from her without even trying to make it work, but she understood why he was doing it. She knew that he thought so poorly of himself that he couldn't believe he was worthy of love. She needed to prove to him that she wanted him, needed him, loved him. She needed to stop him from climbing out the window. She would do whatever it took.

Vincent walked slowly, dejectedly, to the windowsill and laid his hands heavily on the wooden frame. He dropped his head and closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for his chosen path. He pulled the window open and was just about to lift his leg and climb through.

"Vincent," Catherine said. "Look at me."

"No," Vincent shook his head. She was making this harder than it needed to be. He wasn't sure why she didn't just let him go.

"Vincent."

Vincent inhaled sharply and turned his head. Catherine was standing next to the bed, naked. She had removed her pajama pants and panties.

The oxygen rushing into his lungs stung him. Vincent's jaw dropped and his mouth hung open. His pupils dilated and his mouth went dry. His hands fell from the window frame and landed against his side, useless. He dropped his leg, straightened up and stood in stunned silence. She was so beautiful. So perfect. The moonlight streaming in the window caught her curves and highlighted them, burning her image into his eyes. His mind. His heart.

"Stay with me tonight."

**A/N – OK, my lovely readers, I need some help here as I have a bit of a dilemma. When I started this story, I set it at a "T" rating with the intentions that Vincat would never make it to the bedroom (damn characters just do what they want!). So far, this chapter included, I think I've stayed within that rating (…although this particular chapter may be a "T+" or, as I like to call it, a "T with benefits"). In my opinion, Vincent and Catherine are just too hot to stop at one kiss. What should I do? Do you want me to keep it clean enough to leave it at a "T"? Or should I move "Resolutions" over to the "M" section and have some fun? Advice needed! **

**So I guess that Vincent possibly "beasting out" during their… um… bedroom time has always been a very real possibility. I figured that I should address it here in my fic. However, I can't stand it when shows/books do this and then drag it out for ages/years (*cough*Twilight*cough*…oh yeah, *cough*you too, Buffy/Angel*cough*). I sort of wanted to address it and then try to bring realistic closure to it as soon as possible. I get that it is a very real fear that Vincent has, but Catherine and Vincent are too into each other not to make it work one way or another. Catherine is so in love with Vincent that she will help him deal with all of this. There. I've said my piece.**

*****BATB SPOILER*** ****(Don't read if you have been avoiding spoilers for ep 1.15: "Any Means Possible")****: The good people who do the music for BATB (Instinct) recently let it slip on Twitter that they were going to set Vincat's masquerade stairway kiss to "Sugar" by Wanderhouse. When I was first listening to this song, I didn't know they had intended it for that scene. I had originally thought it was for the candlelit warehouse scene (you can see where MY mind went!). I thought the song was pretty smokin' hot, so I wanted it to set the scene here. It's my fic, I can do what I want! Hope you liked it. If you haven't heard it yet, go listen now! **


	16. One

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 16 – One

**Playlist: Goo Goo Dolls - Iris**

Catherine inhaled sharply. Her pulse raced, her body was flushed and her hands shook slightly at her sides. She stood before him, naked, dappled with moonlight. She cleared her throat and whispered, "Stay with me tonight."

Catherine's tone ignited the fire in Vincent's blood once more. He stalked to the bed and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his big body. Vincent's eyes flashed yellow as he lowered his mouth to hers, claiming her mouth with his tongue. Catherine moaned and was lost. She tangled her hands in his hair, intensifying their kiss even more.

Vincent possessed her with his tongue. He ran his hands down her naked body, learning her curves with his dexterous fingers. Vincent rested his hands at the small of Catherine's back, pressing her body close to his.

Vincent picked Catherine up and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently and immediately covered her with his body. He kept his mouth on hers. The feel of his clothes rasping against her naked body set Catherine aflame. She moaned and started to move beneath him.

The noises Catherine was making were driving Vincent crazy. The animal inside of him clamoured to respond to her. He threw back his head and growled. He dragged his mouth from her lips and trailed hot, wet kisses down to her neck. He opened his mouth on her skin and he branded her with his teeth and his tongue, marking her as his. Catherine gasped at the contact, the suction. She turned her head away, giving Vincent better access to her throat. Catherine grasped Vincent's muscled arms with her hands and held on to him.

Vincent inhaled sharply. He started kissing her again, delving his tongue deeply inside her mouth. Catherine wanted to get closer to him. She pushed back his coat, desperate to feel his bare skin next to hers. Vincent shrugged his coat off without breaking contact with her mouth.

Catherine was impatient with Vincent's T-shirt. She pulled at it and clumsily tried to remove it. Vincent stilled her hands. He growled as he ripped his shirt into pieces and threw the scraps of fabric onto the floor.

Catherine tore her mouth from his. She couldn't control her ragged breaths. She turned her attention to the button on Vincent's jeans. He moaned at the contact of her fingers and tipped his head back, savoring the sensation. As he groaned, the veins in his neck stood out. Catherine finally got the button on his pants undone before moving the zipper downwards.

Vincent opened his eyes. His irises were rimmed with yellow. He kissed Catherine once more before moving away from her and off of the bed. Catherine opened her eyes at the loss of his warmth, his kiss. She was dazed and could only watch as he stood up to remove his shoes and jeans. He stood before her in his boxer briefs for an instant before he took them off as well. Vincent couldn't wait any longer and he returned to the bed, covering her with his big, warm body.

"Catherine, I don't want to hurt you," Vincent said, without meeting her eyes.

"Vincent. You won't hurt me. I'm not worried about it at all," Catherine said, sincerely.

"But…if you don't want to…" Vincent stumbled over his words, unsure of what he wanted to say or how he wanted to say it.

"I want you, Vincent. I've never wanted anything more. I want this," Catherine said. She wasn't sure how to convince him of how much she needed him. "Please, Vincent. Now."

Catherine's tone persuaded him more than her words did. He could hear the need, the want, the desire in her voice. Vincent looked into her eyes. He wordlessly asked her one more question. Catherine nodded at him. She moved her body restlessly beneath him. Vincent roared as he plunged inside her.

"C-Catherine, I can stop at any t-time," Vincent panted as he held himself motionless. His whole body was tense at the effort it took to still himself over her, in her. His voice began to deepen considerably and his hands shook. "Just let me…"

"Vincent," Catherine murmured, grasping his shoulders with her hands. She twitched her hips beneath him. "I don't want you to stop."

Vincent released the breath he was holding in a rush. He started to move. The veins on his face and chest darkened and started to bulge. His eyes glowed an intense yellow in the moonlit room. Vincent's breathing was rough and jagged. Catherine gasped at the feeling of him inside her. His movements quickly became harsh and erratic and Catherine looked up at him. He was starting to change.

"Shhh…Vincent," she soothed, caressing his face with light fingertips. "Stay here with me. I'm right here."

Vincent shook his head as though trying to clear his thoughts. He looked down at Catherine and focused on the moment. He paused and took a few deep breaths. The veins in his face and chest thinned and faded. His eyes still gleamed yellow. "I'm OK."

"Good," she whispered, her hands shifting to grasp his broad shoulders. She closed her eyes. "Vincent, don't stop."

Vincent couldn't stay still any longer. He set the pace with his powerful hips. Catherine moaned and bit her lip. She arched her back, pushing her breasts forward. Vincent groaned as he bent his head down. He took her nipple in his mouth, licking it with his tongue, barely interrupting his rhythm.

Vincent let go of her breast and increased his tempo. He snarled as he leaned over and bit Catherine's delicate shoulder. It wasn't a hard bite, but his teeth left marks on her soft skin. Catherine was his. She cried out from the unexpected pleasure his teeth produced.

Catherine released her own beast and she clawed her fingernails down Vincent's broad back. She reared up under him and wrapped her legs around him, trying to contain the sensations raging inside of her, straining to be nearer to him.

Suddenly, Vincent rolled his body, shifting so that Catherine was on top of him. She blinked for a moment, thrown off by the sudden change of position. She found her rhythm quickly. Vincent splayed his hands on her lower back, guiding her, steadying her.

Catherine's hair was damp and clung to her back. Vincent reached up and bunched his hand in it. He pulled her down for an open-mouthed kiss. Catherine rode Vincent until she was blind with passion. Her actions only spurred him on.

"Oh, Catherine," Vincent ground out. His eyes were glazed, his muscles taut. Vincent clutched her hips. He kneaded her skin with his hands, pressing her closer to his body. Vincent couldn't take the pressure anymore. He growled and twisted so that Catherine was under him once again. He thrust deeply inside of her several times.

Vincent and Catherine were both pressed together and slick with their mingled sweat. Drops beaded on his forehead, his torso. Catherine leaned over and licked his salty chest. The sight of her pink tongue against his skin pushed Vincent over the top.

He reared up over her, his arms taut, his eyes squeezed shut. Vincent panted, his breathing hard to control. He was in her so deeply that she didn't think she could take the pressure, the pleasure, the ache. She started quivering under him, desperate for release. She wanted an end to this torture.

Using only his hips, Vincent pulled out before pushing into her once, twice, three more times. Vincent's muscles contracted as he poured himself inside of her with a deep animalistic roar. Catherine opened her eyes briefly. She was blind to anything but the sight of Vincent looming over her, hoisting himself up on his hands as he finished. Vincent's back and buttocks were drawn tightly like a bow. Catherine grasped Vincent's rigid arms with her hands, seeking an anchor. She cried out as Vincent collapsed on her. Their sweat-soaked chests were pressed together, their hearts pounding at a dizzying rate.

Vincent rested his head in the crook of her neck. His breathing was fast and uneven. He gasped and swallowed, trying to catch his breath. Catherine smoothed his hair off of his face with her hand. She closed her eyes and tried to still her own breathing. Vincent gently pulled out of her. She shivered at the lingering contact.

"Catherine, I love you," he whispered, caressing her neck with his lips.

"I love you," she responded as she fell asleep, cradled in his arms.

**xxxxx**

Something woke Catherine from her deep sleep. It took her a moment to fully wake up. She stretched and gasped a little at the resulting ache the movement produced inside her. A delicious shiver ran down her spine as she remembered who was responsible for that tenderness.

Vincent stirred behind her. They had fallen asleep naked, wrapped in each others' arms. Vincent's chest was molded to her back and his hand was resting protectively on her hip. She could feel his heart beating. She turned in his arms with the hint of a smile on her lips.

Vincent had not yet woken up. He was still sleeping, caught in the middle of a dream. Catherine could see his eyelids twitching in the moonlight and his lips were curved into a smile. He was moaning in his sleep. He mumbled something that she couldn't discern. His breath hitched and he whispered her name. Catherine smiled in satisfaction as she leaned back in his arms and watched him sleep. It was rare that she was able to see him in such a vulnerable and unguarded moment.

In an instant, Vincent's dream changed. His moans turned to snarls. Vincent's eyes skittered back and forth under his eyelids and his head moved feverishly on his pillow. His breathing became shallow and uneven. The veins on Vincent's face and chest started to thicken and stand out on his skin. They darkened as they became engorged with blood. His eyes popped open and his pupils were red. He looked around with unseeing eyes.

Catherine clasped him against her warm body in the dark, soothing him with her voice and her touch. She tried to wake him up. She whispered, "Vincent. Vincent! Wake up."

She pushed his hair off of his face and kissed his forehead. "Vincent, wake up. It's just a dream."

Vincent's nostrils twitched as he sniffed the air. Even though his eyes were open, he still seemed to be caught in his dream and much more beast than man. He let out an unearthly scream. It pierced the night and scared Catherine.

"Wake up," she said, her voice firmer. She grasped his shoulders and shook him gently. A pleading tone entered her voice. "Vincent, you need to wake up. I'm here."

Vincent cocked his head to one side as though listening to the sound of her voice. He growled low in his throat. He grasped her arms tightly with his hands. She gasped at his firm grip. "Vincent, you need to wake up now! It's me, Catherine. Vincent!"

Catherine touched his cheeks and lightly kissed his mouth. Vincent stilled in her arms and loosened his hold on her arms. His breathing started to slow. She looked up at him. His eyes had lost their red rims.

"Vincent," she soothed, caressing the skin of his shoulders, his neck.

"Catherine," he responded for the first time. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision. He looked over at her and saw the concerned look on her face.

"It's OK, Vincent. You're OK," she comforted him. "It was just a dream."

Vincent closed his eyes and held her tightly against him. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. Finally, he kissed her lips. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Lost me? What are you talking about?" asked Catherine, perplexed.

"My dream. It was…" Vincent shuddered and didn't finish his sentence.

"What happened?"

"We were making love," he recalled. He idly ran his fingers over her collar bone as he spoke.

"Mmm hmm," Catherine smiled.

"Right in the middle of it, I beasted out," Vincent shook his head and looked down at his hands. "And then I…"

"Vincent, what is it?"

"Catherine, I killed you. In my dream," he whispered. He didn't go into details. His eyes filled with tears. The thought of losing her or doing anything to harm her was more than he could handle. "I'm so sorry."

"Vincent, we've already made love once and nothing happened. You weren't a threat to me. You didn't kill me." Catherine kissed his eyelids, his cheeks. "It was just a dream."

"I could have killed you. This is a stupid idea."

"No, you couldn't have. Vincent, don't you see? It is not in your nature to kill wantonly or without reason. You didn't hurt me. You wouldn't have hurt me."

"But what if…" Vincent retreated from her on the bed. He started to turn away from her.

Catherine scooted forward and stopped Vincent's mouth with a kiss. "No. There are no 'what ifs.'" You wouldn't hurt me. Ever. I trust you with my life."

"Catherine…" he said, his tone a warning.

"No, Vincent. You need to stop this, to stop pushing me away every time we get close. I love you and I'm here for you. Always. That will never change. You won't hurt me. You _can't_ hurt me. Trust yourself."

"What if I can't?"

"Vincent, you can. Stop over-thinking this."

"But…"

Catherine kissed him again. She pressed her lips sweetly and softly against him. She touched his face, his neck and his chest with feather-light caresses. Vincent tried to pull away to say something more, but Catherine wouldn't let him. She refused to end the kiss. She dipped her tongue into his mouth. Vincent stopped thinking and he let his hunger for her take over.

Catherine shifted closer to him. She wrapped her arms around him and slid under him. She opened her legs for him.

"Catherine," he whispered as he pushed into her. He claimed her with his hips. He started moving slowly, savouring each moment he was inside of her. He murmured into her ear, "I need you. So much."

Catherine clenched her eyes shut. She gasped his name, "Vincent."

"You're mine," he stated possessively. He ran his hands over her breasts and down her small torso. He clasped her waist, spanning it with his long fingers. He used his hands to hold her still against him. His hands prevented her from moving, from writhing against him. He wanted to make sure she felt each and every penetration.

Catherine was motionless, restrained by his hands at her waist. She had no defense against his body's assault. His hands were too strong for her. His legs and the weight of his body pinned her to the bed, so she was unable to wrap her legs around his waist. She was powerless to do anything but feel.

"V-Vincent," she released his name at the end of a long and ragged moan. Her head rocked back on the pillow as he continued his torturously slow and deep possession of her.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her back arched off the bed. She gripped his shoulders for a moment before she tangled her hands in the sheets. She clenched them, gripping the fabric and pulling against it.

"Come on, Catherine. I want to see you. Feel you. Hear you." Vincent pulled out of her and held himself still for a few seconds. Catherine opened her eyes and moaned in protest at the lack of contact.

"No, Vincent. Please," she begged him.

Vincent plunged so deeply inside her that she cried out from shock. He set out a punishing rhythm, intending to drive her crazy. It didn't take long for her hips to buck against Vincent's hands. He continued to hold her in place.

"Vincent!" she screamed his name as waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shook with the force of her climax. Vincent's eyes were warm and golden at the moment she finished. Catherine gasped and shuddered and struggled for breath.

Vincent didn't stop his movements, didn't give her any time to rest. He kept up the same pace. He repeatedly withdrew from her and pushed back inside. His strong hands still held her lower body immobile.

"Again, Catherine. I want to hear you again!"

"No! I can't. Oh, Vincent," she moaned, tossing her head. "Vincent!"

Catherine gave in to a second release, her words goading Vincent to finish. They collapsed together on the rumpled sheets, their breathing wild and erratic. Vincent wrapped his arm around Catherine and pulled her close to him. She kissed his shoulder and rested her head against his chest. She was still gasping for air.

"I'm glad Heather's not home!" said Catherine a while later, after she had caught her breath. Vincent smiled as he kissed her forehead. At last he closed his eyes, totally at peace.

**A/N – Well, needless to say, I changed this fic to an "M" rating. Thanks for all of the advice. As this is my first fiction, I wasn't sure what the protocol was if a writer decided to change the rating of a story in the middle. I'm glad it's not a big deal, because I feel like this chapter was an important one for Vincent and Catherine's relationship. I'm not sure what I was thinking by putting it in the "T" section in the first place. Vincent and Catherine are too much in love and too into each other not to try to make their relationship physical. I truly hadn't been meaning to add any bedroom scenes but it just sort of happened. **

**I thought that we have waited long enough for some decent Vincat action in the show, so I decided to give you a double dose in this chapter. Thank you for sticking with this story. It means so much to me. If you are reading it for the first time, thank you for taking a chance on it.**

**Just a word about song choice…I love "Iris." An oldie (-ish) but a goodie from the Goo Goo Dolls. The perfect lyrics for Vincent and Catherine's EPIC love.**

*****BATB SPOILER*** ****(Don't read if you have been avoiding spoilers for ep 1.15):**** I finished this chapter yesterday morning (Friday) before work and was just holding off to edit and publish it with a fresh mind. When I got home from work, I saw that there was an ep. 1.15 (Any Means Possible) preview. I guess it looks like the show is going to take a similar direction as this chapter, with Vincent having a dream that he is going to hurt Catherine while they are making love. It looks like this will make him wary and reluctant to get physical with her. I just hope they resolve it without dragging it out forever. Some drama is good, but these two need to be together. I did not watch the preview until after I had finished writing this. Spooky how close my version and the episode seem to be in this respect. Maybe we will get some Vincat loving in the next episode…xA**


	17. Wet

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 17 – Wet

**Playlist: Andrew Belle – In My Veins**

Early morning sun streamed through the window and pooled on the floor. Catherine opened her eyes and blinked. She rubbed her face with her hands and yawned. She had a momentary lapse in her memory. For an instant, she could not remember what had happened and why she felt so…fragile. She stretched her arms in the air to try to work the kinks out of her back. Her spine straightened with a few quiet, satisfying pops. The movement caused an ache deep inside her. She sucked in her breath and gasped at the raw tenderness in her body.

She looked over at the reason for her discomfort and smiled. Vincent was naked and sprawled out on his back next to her. He had kicked the sheet off and was completely bare. The morning air was a bit chilly and tiny goose bumps had formed all over his skin. His arms were flung out, his legs were stretched wide and his mouth was open. He took up more than half of the bed and was snoring softly. As much as Catherine hated to cover him up, she didn't want him to catch cold. With one last stolen look, she gently pulled the sheet over him. She leaned over and tucked a lock of his wayward hair behind his ear. She softly kissed his forehead. Vincent did not stir.

Catherine grabbed her robe and tied it sloppily around her waist. She didn't bother with clothes or undergarments. She padded out into the hall and let the bedroom door click quietly closed behind her.

Although Heather had said she would be out all night, Catherine needed to make sure that it was true. She and Vincent had been extremely loud the night before. Catherine shivered as she remembered what they had been up to. She had screamed Vincent's name as she had finished. She brushed a tendril of hair back from her face and smiled as she summoned the memory of his hands tangled in her sweat-dampened hair, pulling her down for his kiss. Her cheeks bloomed red as she remembered gripping the sheets tightly with her hands and moaning while Vincent tortured her lovingly with his body. She pulled in a heavy breath as she recalled what it felt like to ride him, her thighs clenched firmly around his strong body. A slow ache began between her legs.

She walked a little unsteadily down the hall. She reached her hand out and trailed it dreamily along the wall. The door to Heather's room was closed. Catherine's heart was in her throat and she could hear it pounding in her ears. She hoped that Heather had not come back at some point during the previous evening. She did not want to have to explain her night of passion to her sister.

She turned the knob slowly. She pressed her other hand against the middle of the door to quiet it while she opened it. She poked her head around the door and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Heather's room was empty, her bed was made. It hadn't been slept in. Catherine closed the door and made her way to the living room. She went into the kitchen, got a tall glass from the cupboard and filled it full of cool water. She gulped the water down gratefully, pausing only to refill it once she had finished. She drank half of the second glass before taking a break.

Catherine's phone was sitting on the counter. The red message light was flashing. She quickly turned the screen on and read the single text message from Heather.

_"Am getting v lucky. B home Mon b4 work. Don't worry, am happy. xoxo Heather,"_ read Heather's chipper text. She had included several winking and lascivious looking emoticons at the end of her message. Catherine rolled her eyes at Heather's words and penchant for blinking visual effects but she breathed a deep sigh of relief. She would have Vincent to herself for the rest of the weekend and she wouldn't have to worry about being interrupted. She sent Heather a quick confirmation text and put her phone down.

After finishing off the rest of the water, Catherine put her glass in the sink. She contemplated having something to eat, but she wanted to wait until Vincent woke up so they could eat breakfast together. She looked at the clock on the microwave. It was only a quarter to eight. It felt so much later!

Catherine used the hallway door to the bathroom. She carefully closed the adjoining door to the bedroom. She was hoping to take a shower before Vincent woke up. She wanted to look and smell fresh and clean. She looked in the mirror over the sink and gasped at her appearance. She looked extremely…well loved. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were flushed and her skin actually glowed. She thought that having a post-sex glow was a myth perpetuated by women's magazines. It had certainly never happened to her before.

Once she had untied the sloppy knot at the belt of her robe, Catherine let the terry cloth garment slide down her naked body to the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked it to the side. She looked at her body in the mirror, turning from side to side and appraising herself. Did she look any different?

Other than her messy hair and the sex glow, she seemed the same. She took a step forward and leaned her hands on the counter of the sink as she peered closely at herself in the mirror. She had a hickey on her throat! An actual hickey. She hadn't had one of those since high school. She wrinkled her nose. She would have to get very creative with a scarf or a high collar at work on Monday. She did not want her back-to-work psych eval to include questions about who was giving her hickeys.

She dropped her hands from the sink and stared off into space as she remembered Vincent's mouth on her, his tongue, and the suction that had caused this little souvenir. She smiled wryly before noticing the mouth-shaped bruise on her shoulder. She peered into the mirror again and prodded the oval-shaped mark with her fingers. It was tender to the touch. He had branded her during the height of their lovemaking. He had growled and claimed her as his mate. Catherine shivered. She needed to get into the shower.

She turned the water on and waited for a moment for it to heat up. She got into the stall and stood under the warm water. She moaned. It felt so good. She took a handful of apple-scented shower gel and worked it into a lather. She rubbed it into her pleasantly aching body, reveling in the scent and the relaxation of her tired muscles.

Suddenly, Catherine felt a cool breeze wash over her sensitized skin. Before she could respond, a slick hand wrapped around her waist. She stifled a scream. Strong arms turned her around.

"Oh…" was all Catherine could say before Vincent's mouth descended on hers. He twisted his hands in her wet hair and tilted her head closer to his. She leaned into his kiss and opened her mouth, ravenous for more. Vincent's tongue played with hers for a moment before it took over, delving greedily into her mouth. Catherine moaned and ran her hands over Vincent's neck and shoulders.

Vincent growled and clenched her tightly to him. Catherine could feel his whole body pressed up against hers. She shivered in the warm water. She grabbed his hair and plunged her tongue into his mouth. A low growl escaped his throat. Vincent pulled away from her for a moment, staring into her eyes and breathing harshly. His eyes flashed golden for a moment before returning to their natural brown colour.

"Are you OK?" Catherine asked, looking up at him with concern.

"Oh, I'm fine," he replied, smiling. His smile changed in an instant and his look became penetrating, serious. "You're just so beautiful, I needed to take a moment to look at you. All of you."

A flush heated Catherine's cheeks and spread down her neck. Vincent started running his hands softly and gently up and down her soapy body, pausing at her breasts, her waist and hips. Her body shook like a leaf under the shower stream. She stood there helplessly, unable to control her response to him. When he was finished, she looked down, incapable of meeting his eyes. Her violent reaction to him embarrassed her. She was so needy. She craved him, his touch, his body.

"Hey, Catherine. Look at me," Vincent tipped her chin up with gentle fingers. His eyes surveyed her face. He brought his hand to her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. His eyes raked her body appreciatively. He whispered huskily, "I'm so into you."

The corners of Catherine's mouth tugged upwards slowly. He looked at her for a moment before leaning over to taste her smile. She moaned in response. His kisses were always so consuming, so shattering, so deep. Vincent pulled her into his arms and lifted her up in one smooth, controlled motion. Catherine entwined her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. The warm water pounded over them.

Vincent supported her with one hand under her buttocks. He spread her legs with his hand. Catherine's breathing hitched before stopping completely. She gasped as his fingers danced along her legs and grazed her inner thighs. She clenched her eyes shut and gripped his biceps. Catherine opened her legs wider, giving Vincent easier access.

Vincent's fingers worked their way to the moistness between Catherine's legs. He touched her there, tenderly, causing her breath to catch. Her eyes widened as he dipped a finger inside of her. "Vincent!"

He teased her with his finger, drawing it in and out of her, slowly, torturously. Catherine clenched his arms even tighter. She dug her nails in and closed her eyes. Vincent looked down at her in his arms and he couldn't take it anymore. His control snapped. He needed to be inside of her.

Vincent shifted both of his hands to her buttocks. He turned and pushed Catherine's back up against the wall. He pinned her there with his shoulder as he entered her swiftly. She exhaled a jagged breath. Vincent growled and tilted his head closer to Catherine's. Their foreheads touched for a brief instant.

"Love you," he whispered. His whisper changed into a moan. He tried to control it.

"I love you, too," she replied, sighing.

Catherine could feel the cool tiles pressing against her back. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Their gentle moment passed in an instant as Catherine slipped her tongue into Vincent's mouth. He groaned and deepened the kiss.

Vincent became ravenous. He pulled out before thrusting into her so deeply she cried out. The force of his penetration pushed her against the wall. She tipped her head back as far as it would go against the tiles, exposing her neck. Catherine's body strained against him, seeking to be closer.

"Vincent," she moaned, her body fevered. They were both slick from the water, their bodies slippery and wet against each other. Vincent drove into her several more times. She cried out each time. Her eyes remained closed and she clawed at his back. She dug into his shoulder blades with her nails. The blood she drew was quickly washed away in the water. It was her turn to claim him. "Please."

Catherine writhed against him, her hips begging for more. She needed him and she desperately wanted release. The wait was unbearable.

"Not yet," he whispered. Her moan of frustration made him chuckle. His laughter quickly turned to growls as she pumped against him with her hips. "I need you too much to finish this now."

Catherine panted as Vincent gripped her under her arms. He lifted her up in the air and brought her back down on him, hard. He wanted to control their pace, their movements. He did this repeatedly until Catherine couldn't think straight anymore. She cried out over and over again. She clung to him, riding out the sensations, trying to contain them. Vincent's thrusts became frantic, erratic.

Catherine rocked her hips forward, trying to ease the pressure she felt. Her hands slipped from his shoulders to his arms. She grasped them tightly, desperate for something to hold onto. She lost all sense of herself. All she could do was feel.

Vincent covered her mouth with a hot kiss. The pressure building up inside her became too much to take. Catherine cried out Vincent's name as she finished, her body giving into him. She shuddered uncontrollably and sobbed with emotion. She leaned forward and laid her head down on his shoulder, overcome at last. Vincent slammed his hand against the tiles as he pushed forward into her one last time, pressing her back against the wall. He gave into his release and shouted something incomprehensible.

Vincent and Catherine were both breathing hard, unable to catch their breaths. She still had her head on his shoulder, emotionally and physically drained. Vincent slowly pulled out of her, causing her breath to hitch. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor of the shower. Catherine was cradled in his arms.

"Damn," was all Vincent could say, as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Yeah," said Catherine, her head still on his chest, her tired body curled into his. Her heart was pounding out of control. The water from the shower poured over them in a cleansing spray.

**xxxxx**

Sometime in the late afternoon, long shadows grew on the walls of Catherine's apartment. The sun was sinking quickly and there was a chill in the air. The early January evening hinted at a snowfall to come.

Vincent and Catherine were tangled in the sheets of her bed, naked and wanting. Their breaths mingled and they sighed together. Vincent pressed slow, languorous kisses over every inch of Catherine's enflamed skin. His firm lips were feather-soft and he used them against her tenderly, making his way down her body.

Catherine tangled her hands in Vincent's hair, coaxing his head up, guiding his mouth gently back to hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Catherine winced at the sensitive ache between her thighs.

"Are you OK?" Vincent asked, concerned. He stilled himself on top of her.

"Yes," she whispered, suddenly shy. She ran her fingertips along his collar bone and over his broad shoulders.

"What's wrong?" he asked, clasping her hand in his, capturing it against his chest. Her actions were distracting him.

"Nothing, Vincent. I'm fine," she replied, brushing off his concern. "I'm just a bit sore."

"I'm sorry, Catherine," he said, earnestly.

"For what?" she asked, perplexed by his apology.

"Well, I'm the reason you're in pain."

"Vincent, it's nothing you did. I just haven't…done this in a while. I'm not used to it."

"Good." Vincent smiled smugly. He bent down and they kissed each other again. Catherine ran her hands down Vincent's strong body. She smoothed them over his broad shoulders and down his muscled chest. She paused at his nipple. She rubbed it between her fingertips and watched his reaction. His eyes glowed yellow momentarily.

Catherine's fingers continued to trace their way lower. They passed his belly button and danced along the fine line of hair trailing downwards. Vincent's body tensed. Catherine met his glance as her hands clasped him. She watched his pupils dilate before he closed his eyes. She ran her hands up and down his length.

"Catherine!" he exclaimed. It was his turn to writhe against her. He leaned his head forward and his hair fell into his eyes.

Vincent gently moved her hands away from him. He slid inside her, pausing at her sharp intake of breath. He started a slow, languid rhythm, unhurried and gentle. Catherine smiled as she closed her eyes.

Catherine met each one of his thrusts. Perspiration covered her body. Her breathing became loud and uneven. Vincent looked down at her. He smiled as he saw her reaction to him. He slowed his pace. He didn't want it to end so soon. His strokes became even longer and smoother. Catherine moaned at the change in rhythm.

"Catherine," he said, beads of sweat forming all over his body. She held him tighter in her arms. Vincent reached out and clasped her hand in his, entwining their fingers. They called out at the same time and fell into each other's arms.

"Vincent, I love you," Catherine gasped. She was lying on top of him, unable to move, to think.

"I love you, too," he responded, his eyes closed. He shuddered. "I never stop wanting you."

"I know. It's the same for me, Vincent." Catherine held him tighter, her hands clasped around him.

**A/N – I'm sorry, I had to do it. I know you probably all saw it coming but I OWED it to Vincent and Catherine to give them some time in the shower together. I couldn't just move this fic over to the "M" section for one tiny, little night of passion, now could I? No. I could not. I had to make it really, really, really worth the rating change (and the 16 chapter wait!). I feel we (and by we, I mean us "Beasties") deserved a little bit more. **

**This fic is winding to a close now. A few more chapters and it'll be done. It's going to end up being about four times longer than I had originally planned. I already have plans for another long fic (this one has been planned much more comprehensively than "Revolutions" was and I already know it's going to be long) and the first chapter will be up (hopefully) sometime during Spring Break when I will have more time to think and dive into it. I also want to get "Resolutions" completely done first. I've got the new story sketched out but haven't really started writing it yet. I do know that it will have a darker tone to it than this one and there will be many surprises for our favourite couple. My new story is starting to take over my thoughts so I need to start getting it down on paper. It will be called "Life" and will be posted to the "M" section (yeah, there will be reasons for that, never fear!). **

**Just watched ep. 1.15 (Any Means Possible). I don't think I will ever be the same again. Epic awesomeness. xA**


	18. Resolutions

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Chapter 18 – Resolutions

**Playlist: Daena Jay – Home Again **

It was dark outside. The only light in the living room came from the movie playing on the TV. The volume was turned low. Chinese take out boxes were littered all over the surface of the coffee table. Catherine and Vincent were on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms.

"What happens now?" Vincent asked, suddenly.

"What do you mean?" responded Catherine, her head nestled comfortably on his chest. She was barely paying attention to the movie. She had no idea what was going on or who half of the characters were. She was too busy concentrating on his strong chest and his heartbeat.

"Well, you go back to work on Monday, things go back to normal. What does this mean for us?"

Catherine lifted her head and moved back from him. She looked into his eyes. He looked extremely insecure and he wouldn't meet her gaze. "Vincent, me going back to work and it being Monday doesn't change anything between us. This time together has been nice, lovely…like a vacation. However, I love you. What I feel for you: that's forever."

"Muirfield won't stop chasing me." Vincent ran his hands through his hair self-consciously. "Catherine, they aren't going to stop until I'm dead."

"Vincent, if they want to kill you, they'll have to go through me first," a ripple of strength coloured her words and hardened her tone. She meant every word she said.

"Catherine, don't. You don't know what you are saying." Catherine looked up at him. His face was frozen in shock and he shook his head.

"I know what I'm saying. I mean every word. I will protect you and I will keep you safe. If I have to, I will die for you." Catherine's eyes were alight.

"No," Vincent whispered, horrified. "No, I can't let you do that. Not for me."

"Vincent," Catherine's tone held a warning. "I'm not asking for your input. This is not a poll. You don't get a say. Besides, I know that you would do the same for me."

"I would. Catherine, I would die for you. Kill for you, if I had to, but…" Vincent sighed. He was having a hard time with this conversation. "I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."

"Vincent, don't you see…it's the same for me. I feel the same way. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

"I can't promise you anything. There are no guarantees that this is going to turn out OK. The more likely outcome is that I will be dead before this whole thing is over."

Catherine inhaled sharply. She brought her hand up to his chest. "Vincent, there are no guarantees in life. Even people who don't have top secret government organizations chasing them don't know how things are going to turn out. Besides, it doesn't matter what happens now. We're together. We'll face it together. That's the only guarantee I need. It's enough."

"I wish I could offer you more."

"I know, Vincent," she said. She leaned up for his kiss. "I know. This is enough. You're enough."

Vincent kissed her sweetly on her lips. She closed her eyes and sighed. This was perfect. They kissed a few times. Catherine snuggled back into his chest and resumed listening to his heartbeat and not watching the movie.

**xxxxx**

"I've been meaning to ask you…" Catherine began, a bit embarrassed. The end credits of the movie were rolling. Catherine couldn't even remember the name of the movie they had just seen, let alone any of the finer plot points.

"Yes?" he asked, smoothing her hair from her forehead with his hand. He tucked it behind her ear.

"What's your New Year's resolution? Do you even make them? I don't know…" she faltered, realizing there was still so much to learn about him.

He chuckled, but didn't answer.

"What?" she asked, unable to keep the curiosity from her voice. "What is it?"

"I guess I've already started on my resolution," he said, not elaborating.

"Well? What is it?" she asked. "Have you renewed your efforts to find a cure?"

"No. Not that. I think JT and I have realized that there probably isn't a 'cure,' per se. We just don't have the resources we need at this point. We'll keep dabbling, but I'm not staking my future on it," he said, tightening his arms around her. He looked down into her eyes. "Catherine, it's you. My resolution was to do whatever I needed to do to show you how much I love you. I've made a start on that, but I look forward to seeing my resolution through every day. I also vowed to keep you safe, no matter what."

"Oh," Catherine said, speechless. "I'm not sure what to say. Thank you."

Catherine leaned up and kissed him on his forehead. Vincent closed his eyes and sighed at her nearness. "I mean it, Catherine. I want to spend my days loving you and protecting you."

"Oh, Vincent," she said, unsure of how to respond his heartfelt declarations.

"How about you, Catherine? Did you make a resolution?" he asked, his hand brushing her collar bone. He leaned over and kissed her neck, distracting her momentarily.

"Yessssss…I made a resolution," she drawled, her cheeks colouring. "I can't tell you, though…It's silly."

"Catherine…no fair. I told you mine," he whined playfully, kissing her softly on the lips, coaxing her to spill her secret.

"It sounds pretty silly," she said, unable to meet his eyes.

"Is it about me?" he asked, grinning boyishly. He had a feeling that he already knew the answer to that one.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Tell me," he prodded, gently. He kissed her lips again.

"Fine," she sighed. "My resolution is to finish this year…in your arms. Happy now? I know it sounds totally cheesy, right?"

Catherine gulped and looked down, completely embarrassed by her confession. Vincent was all she could think about. How was she going to be able to focus on work or on keeping their secret? She was too wrapped up in him, too enthralled with him. She had a hard time thinking straight.

"If it is within my power to give you that, I will. I promise."

"I hope so," she responded. That was all that she wanted. "I know that we don't know what's going to happen and I know that our situation is dangerous, but all I want is you."

"I know. I feel the same way," he said. He was secretly pleased with her confession.

"Oh, remind me to thank JT," she said, changing the subject quickly. She was smiling.

"Why?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I want to thank him for calling you and telling you to go to the party," she looked up at him. She ran the tip of her finger over his chest. Vincent caught her finger under his hand, trapping it against him. It was very distracting.

"Catherine, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"What? What for?"

"I'm sorry for Alex and for making you doubt me and what I feel for you, even for a second. I'm sorry for everything. I made a real mess of things. I just want you to know how much I love you. I will make it up to you, I promise."

"Vincent, please stop apologizing! I don't want any more apologies. Not for who you are or what happened in the past. I accept you for all of that, OK? So stop it! I love you." Catherine brushed a light kiss on Vincent's forehead.

"OK," he whispered back, touching his forehead to hers and looking into her eyes. He was so close to her that his vision blurred and he was literally lost in the sight of her.

"I have another question…" she trailed off.

"Shoot," he said. Catherine's eyebrow quirked. Vincent snickered. "You know what I mean."

"Well, Heather and Tess have seen you. I've told both of them a little bit about you. It's too dangerous for them to know, though. I need to keep them safe." Catherine was idly rubbing her fingers on his chest. "What do I tell them? What do I tell my family? My other friends? I want to everyone safe and I don't want to mess this up."

"Well, the easiest thing to say to Heather and Tess is probably that we broke up. Tell them that you just couldn't forgive me for being the world's biggest ass," Catherine inhaled sharply at this and moved back so she could look at him. Vincent moved his hand to her neck and started to massage the tender skin there. "Tell them you couldn't deal with my behaviour and everything else and that it was too much drama for you. As for the rest of your friends and family, just don't tell them anything. There's no reason for them to know about me at all."

"Hmmm…I have to convince Heather and Tess that you are the 'world's biggest ass,' huh? OK, I _guess_ I can do that." Catherine's voice was mocking and her eyes sparkled.

"Yeah, I'm sure you can," said Vincent, his eyes rolling. He reached out and started tickling her. She squealed and started squirming around in his lap, trying to avoid his fingers. She stopped fidgeting suddenly, breathing heavily.

"I can't imagine my life without you."

Vincent's fingers stilled and his eyes became serious, intent. He pinned her with his gaze. "It's the same for me. I don't want to live without you."

Catherine and Vincent leaned in at the same time and their lips found each other. Their movements quickly became frantic and heated. Intensity sparked between them as they stripped off their clothes. They came together in a frenzy of kisses and touches, fingertips racing against skin, mouths exploring, bodies arching. Needing. Finding.

Catherine called out his name as a tear slid down her face. Vincent threw back his head and growled, his eyes yellow, his hands gripping her arms. He collapsed on top of her and kissed her wet cheeks.

"Everything will be OK. We're here together now," he soothed, his hands lost in her hair. He gently cradled her head and pressed light kisses all over her face.

"I know," she said, sighing. "It's just hard, knowing how uncertain everything is. I just want us to have a future together."

"I do, too," he whispered, pulling her closer.

**xxxxx**

Sometime later, in the pitch black, Vincent lifted Catherine into his arms. He carried her sweetly slumbering form into her bedroom. He held her carefully with one arm while he pulled back the sheets and covers on her bed. He placed her on the middle of the mattress and tucked her in under the blankets. He smoothed her hair back from her face and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

He stood back from the bed and looked down at her for a moment. He found his shoes and his jacket and put them on. Vincent backed away towards the window and quietly raised the glass. He should let her rest up and get ready for work. Tomorrow was Sunday and she went back to work on Monday.

"Stay with me," Catherine whispered from the bed, her words an almost identical echo to the ones she had used the previous night.

Vincent turned around and looked at her. She was gazing up at him and she held her hand out to him. There had never been a choice for him. Not really. She was his whole life. She had been for a long time. He would do anything to keep her safe.

After kicking off his shoes and pulling down his jacket, Vincent took her hand and settled into the bed. He turned her gently so her back was to him and he pressed up against her. He circled her with his arm, his hand coming to rest against her belly. He nestled his nose in her hair and inhaled. Perfect. Catherine snuggled against him and her breathing evened out quickly.

Vincent fell asleep, safe and warm, wrapped up in the sound of Catherine's steady heartbeat.

**A/N – I am so sorry that this update took so long. Spring Break didn't turn out to be the restful time for writing I had imagined it would be. It was great, but I didn't get a lot of time for my story. **

**There is only one chapter left, the epilogue actually, for my sweet "Resolutions" and then it will be done. It shouldn't be too long for the last update (although I have said that before…*wink*). This story has been a part of my life for a little while now and it will feel weird to finish it for good. Once it's done, I will start on my new story, "Life." I'm hoping it won't take me too long to get it up, but I want to perfect the first few chapters and get a feel for the story before I start posting. **

**As ever, thank you for your reviews, kind words and encouragement. xA**


	19. Epilogue

**I do not own CW's Beauty and the Beast or any of the characters.**

Epilogue – December 31, 2013

**Playlist: OneRepublic – All This Time**

"Have a good time, Heather," Catherine sniffled. Her nose was running and her eyes were red. Her face was pale and she was the picture of misery. She was bundled on the couch. A cop show was playing softly in the background. Piles of wadded up tissues surrounded her and a mug of tea that Heather had made for her sat untouched on the coffee table. Catherine wrinkled her nose at the tea.

"How do I look?" asked Heather as she pirouetted in front of her sister. She was wearing a little black dress and a lot of sparkly make up.

"You look great. Perfect," Catherine responded. "Have fun."

"I'm sorry you're so sick," said Heather, earnestly. "There are going to be a few guys there I could have introduced you to."

"Heather," Catherine warned.

"I know, I know. You just haven't shown any interest in anyone since you broke up with Mr. Complicated," Heather said, concerned. "It's been almost a year, Cat."

"Well, thanks, but I'm fine. I'm OK with being alone right now. I'll let you know when I'm ready to start looking again, though," Catherine promised.

"Oh, goody!" Heather exclaimed, clapping her hands. "I'm kind of bummed. We would have had fun together tonight."

"Yeah, we would have. I'm sorry." Catherine responded, contrite.

"I'd hug you, but I don't want to get sick," said Heather as she slipped on a pair of Catherine's shoes. Catherine noticed but didn't say a word. "I'll text you."

"Don't worry about me. Enjoy yourself at the party. See you next year," Catherine joked.

"See you."

Heather tossed back a wave as she let herself out of the front door. Catherine waited for a few minutes before she hopped up from the couch. She flew into the bathroom and shut the door. Her first stop was the sink where she used a soapy wash cloth to scrub off all of the make up she had on her cheeks and eyes and the petroleum jelly under her nose which made her look sick. She jumped into the shower where she must have set some records for speed.

After drying off, she took her outfit from its hook on the back of the bathroom door. She slipped it on before attending to her make up. She quickly finished her hair before she ran into the living room. Catherine turned off the TV, turned on some music, dimmed the lights, cleaned up the evidence of her "illness" and lit some candles. She took a deep breath and walked calmly into the bedroom. Almost immediately there was a tap at the window.

"Have you been waiting long?" she asked, pulling up the window.

"Not too long," Vincent responded. She stepped back as he climbed through the window. He reached out and cradled her neck with his hands before leaning in to kiss her. After a moment, he pulled back and looked at her. "Hi."

"Hi," she said, opening her eyes after fully enjoying their kiss.

"You look really cute when you're sick," he said.

"Ha ha," she responded dryly. "So you were there for a while."

"Don't worry," he kissed her again, closing his eyes and savouring the moment. "You clean up pretty quickly. You look beautiful."

"Thank you. You look…wonderful," Catherine whispered, eyeing Vincent in his black pants and deep blue button up shirt under a dress jacket. She held out her hand. "Come with me."

Vincent took her hand and followed her into the living room. He had seen her running around to set the scene from his perch outside on the balcony, but he was touched at the effort she had gone through for him. The muted lights and the candles lent a romantic air to the living room.

Catherine and Vincent sat next to each other on the couch. It had been hectic at the precinct and Catherine had been swamped with work. On top of that, Heather had been getting over another break up and had been staying home a lot more lately. In her vulnerable state, she had been claiming most of Catherine's free time. Other than a few stolen midnight kisses on the fire escape, they hadn't seen each other in more than a week. Vincent raised his arm and put it around her. She sunk into him, her head resting on his chest.

"I've missed you," she murmured, sighing. It felt so good to be near him.

"I've missed you, too," he responded, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm sorry that I've been so busy with work. It seems like the holidays are always the busiest time of the year for cops. It's pretty sad actually." Catherine said. "As well, Heather's been depressed lately. She just broke up with someone and I wanted to make sure I was there for her."

"I understand, Catherine. I'm just happy that we have this time together now. It's New Year's and there's nowhere I'd rather be."

Catherine slid her arms around him and moved over to sit in his lap. "I agree."

Vincent kissed Catherine gently, his mouth soft against hers. She closed her eyes and accepted his lips. Their kisses deepened in intensity fairly quickly. It had been a while since they had been able to spend more than a few moments together.

Catherine's eyes opened reluctantly as Vincent stopped kissing her and moved away from her. His head was cocked and he was listening to something. Vincent moved her gently from his lap and stood before her. "Vincent?"

"Dance with me," Vincent held out his hand to her as a throaty feminine voice accompanied only by a piano filled the room. Catherine finally recognized the opening bars of a very familiar song. She didn't hesitate before placing her hand in his. Her heart started thumping and her breath caught as he took her into his arms. This would never get old. Never feel familiar. Each time was like the first.

"I guess this is our song," Catherine whispered. They had already danced to it twice before and the words were very appropriate for their situation.

"I'm OK with that," he responded, pulling her even closer. Their movements slowed until they were standing in the centre of the room, swaying gently to the music, not moving their feet. Catherine looked up into Vincent's eyes.

Vincent lowered his head, noting how the candlelight flickered and sparkled in her eyes. He brushed his lips across hers briefly. Catherine reached up and put her hands around his neck, coaxing his mouth closer to hers. They kissed softly, sweetly.

Before Catherine knew what was happening, Vincent finished their kiss and looked at her intensely for a moment. He released her from his arms and lowered himself to his knees on the floor. He was hunched over, clutching at his chest with his hand.

"Vincent!" Catherine cried. She immediately fell to her knees next to him. She took him in her arms. "Vincent. What's wrong?"

"Uh, Catherine," Vincent said, straightening up and pulling his hand out of his inside jacket pocket. He was holding a small black box. "This will work much better if you are standing up."

"Oh," Catherine exhaled her breath in a startled rush. She dropped her hands to her sides in shock, understanding dawning. "_Oh_."

Catherine stood up in front of Vincent. He reached out and took her right hand in his. He cleared his throat. For once, Catherine was aware of his sweaty palms, of the frantic pulse in his wrist and of how nervous he seemed. "Catherine, I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, her eyes shining as she looked down at him.

"Ever since I got back to the States, I have been living a very strange and empty half-life. I'm not able to have a job or go out during the day or interact with people. The only times I felt alive, truly alive, were those times I got to see you. Checking in on you for the past ten years, seeing you laugh and smile and grow and change were the happiest times of my life. My _whole_ life." Vincent emphasized. He exhaled a deep breath and squeezed her hand. Catherine squeezed back. "I never thought in a million years that I would be lucky enough to actually meet you. Then, all of my dreams came true and you showed up at the warehouse. I couldn't stay hidden. I…I know it was wrong, but I just had to talk to you, to know that you knew who I was."

"Vincent," Catherine whispered, overcome. She had never heard this before.

"I became the luckiest man on Earth the day you kissed me and told me that you loved me, too. I never thought I would deserve you. There are moments when I still can't believe that you are here with me. That you're mine and I'm yours."

Catherine reached down and stroked his hair and his forehead with her free hand.

"I can't offer you much," he continued, his pain in this statement flashing into his eyes. "But I can promise to love you forever and protect you until I d-"

"Vincent, no," she stopped his mouth with her fingertip, not allowing him to finish his sentence. She didn't want him dwell on unhappiness and death, not on the happiest day of her life.

"Catherine, I will love you and protect you with all that I am," he amended. His breath hitched. "Will you…will you marry me?"

Catherine got to her knees once more and knelt in front of him, still holding his hand. She looked into his eyes and said simply, "Yes."

Vincent's eyes and face lit up. A large smile burst from his mouth. He opened the box and slipped a slim white gold band of tiny diamonds on the ring finger of her right hand. "Vincent, it's perfect. Thank you."

He closed her hand into a fist and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm sorry you can't wear it on your left hand or tell people about us. I don't know when the wedding could be. I'm not even sure that it could be legal, as I'm supposed to be dead."

"I don't care," she said fervently. "It doesn't matter."

"I know," he sighed, his heart breaking at the thought of what she was giving up to be with him. "It matters to me, though. I want to be able to tell everyone we know and marry you in front of them. If I could manage it, I'd marry you tomorrow."

"Oh, Vincent. I know, that's what I want, too. I'm just happy to have you in my life," she leaned over and kissed him. She looked at the ring again. It was extremely beautiful and suited her. "How did you ever…?"

Vincent chuckled. "I took a job hauling fish at the docks. They don't ask for names or information, they pay in cash and I can work for a few hours in the early morning and still be home before it gets light out. I've been doing that to save money for the ring."

Catherine's eyes widened at the lengths he went to so she could have the perfect proposal. "You shouldn't have. You could have been…"

"Now it's my turn to say this: I don't care. I wanted to do this for you and I wanted you to have something normal. I'm tired of the stolen moments and of slipping out of your bed before dawn, leaving you alone. I wish this was normal. I would love to meet your family and hang out with you and your friends. Since it isn't normal, I wanted to at least be able to propose to you properly. I didn't want JT to buy your ring. I needed to do this for you."

"Thank you. It's beautiful. JT must have freaked."

"JT doesn't know," Vincent winked. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her in his arms, engulfing her with his strength. He pressed her close, one hand at her neck, the other at the small of her back. They knelt that way for a while, breathing the same air, sharing the same space. "I love you, Catherine."

"I love you, Vincent."

After a while, Vincent stood up and walked over to where her iPod was hooked up to a set of speakers. He flicked it back until he found their song. He turned up the volume slightly.

"Dance with me, _Mrs. Keller_," Vincent held out his hand to her. She placed her palm in his. He pulled her gently into his arms.

"Certainly, _Mr. Keller_," Catherine beamed. She had never been happier. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his chest.

Catherine and Vincent swayed together to their song, kissing and enjoying the moment.

**xxxxx**

Later that night, after the ball had dropped in Times Square and they had kissed in the New Year, Catherine stroked Vincent's bare chest with her hand. They were in bed, but not yet asleep.

"What's your resolution this year?" she asked.

"Not this again," he chuckled.

"Come on," she prodded, poking him with her finger.

"My resolution is to find a way to marry you."

"Nice one," she responded, kissing his lips.

"Fair's fair. What's yours?" he asked when she had finished kissing him.

"To let you," she said, simply. She leaned up and kissed him gently.

Catherine nestled in the crook between his arm and chest. He sighed and clenched his arm, holding her tighter. Her breathing evened out as she fell asleep. Before he closed his eyes, Vincent vowed to find a way for them to be together. He wanted nothing more to marry her and fall asleep with her in his arms every night for the rest of his life.

**The End**

**A/N – Wow! OK, that's the end. This is the first story I've finished in….um, well, I can't remember how long it's been since I've actually ****_finished_**** a story I've started. I hope you've enjoyed the journey. Thank you for your overwhelming support of this story and of me as a writer. I have been blown away by all of you. I look forward to hearing what you think about the ending and about the story as a whole.**

**I wanted this story to be a break from all of the Muirfield/NYPD drama and focus on Vincent and Catherine's relationship. I started writing this during the six-week mid-season hiatus when NOTHING was happening between them. This was my way of trying to hurry them the heck up. My next story will feature Muirfield more prominently. I will start posting "Life" to the "M" section within the next few weeks. xA**

**xxxxx**

**I do not own these songs or the rights to them. I just think they lent themselves well to the story.**

**Resolutions Playlist**

1. Kyla La Grange – To Be Torn

2. Live – Lightning Crashes

3. Alison Krauss and Yo-Yo Ma – Slumber My Darling

4. Ingrid Michaelson – Keep Breathing

5. Augustana (ft. Daria Werbowy) - Boston

6. Adele – Someone Like You

7. Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah

8. A Fine Frenzy – Ashes and Wine

9. Passenger – Feather on the Clyde (Acoustic)

10. Fun (ft. Janelle Monae) – We Are Young

11. Charlene Soraia – Wherever You Will Go

12. Sum 41 – With Me

13. Van Morrison – Someone Like You

14. Maroon 5 – Daylight

15. Wanderhouse – Sugar

16. Goo Goo Dolls - Iris

17. Andrew Belle – In My Veins

18. Daena Jay – Home Again

19. OneRepublic – All This Time


End file.
